Frozen Fire
by Adelaide E
Summary: Features everybody. The fourth Wild Power struggles with loyalties and love while our old friends solve the ordeals of being a soul mate. Revamped um, no pun intended...
1. Frozen Fire 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Night World nor the characters in it. They were created by L.J. Smith.

By Adelaide E.

Frozen Fire

"How is the girl doing?" Hunter didn't turn around as he spoke to one of his many spies. The man, Traces, was sufficiently terrified of the former head of the Night World without the need for paralyzing glares.

"She is suspended for the last two weeks of school and she must see a psychiatrist for the summer. Last week she locked two girls in the janitor's closet for bumping into her."

"Two weeks? A psychiatrist?" The red-headed vampire smiled slightly while his eyes stayed on the dancing fire before him. Locking people in a closet didn't seem like much.

"She forgot to tell anybody…they were locked in the closet for two days. It was in the basement, you see."

Traces appeared to be amused by the information as well and Hunter, being the selfish creature he was, disliked seeing others enjoy themselves. The man was becoming annoying fast. He sighed. "Leave."

He never heard a sound as he left. That was a good sign; his spies could only be heard or seen when they wanted it so. Without nothing else to do, Hunter sat at his desk. As he did so, he looked up to find Lily standing before him.

In truth, he despised the girl. She was too ambitious, secretly wanting his place as head of the vampires. Technically, his former place. One couldn't hold office if others believed him dead. It was a general rule. Ha, not while he was up and kicking.

"Why don't we kill her? Those Daybreak imbeciles have already drawn three wild powers to their side. Why should a human be different? We will not win unless there is less than three, but your insane and idiotic orders are stopping that."

Hunter was half listening, for the growing fury brought Lily to the shocking resemblance of a snorting, twitching hell cat. But then her continuing ranting brought the image of an angry hen. Vampire, and yet so much like those filthy shifters.

"What? Do you think the girl will be willing to join the 'bad guys?' Face it Redfern, the humans seem to cheer for the good, honest team, as do the Wild Powers." Damn her. Honestly, can't a man dream? Hunter's only solace was the fact she couldn't quite glare with out the pains of the two scars on her cheek.

He would have to thank Jezebel when he finally killed her.

"It's simple, really," he began in a chiding, mature voice that caused his daughter's glare to deepen. "I have a plan. A genius, incredibly complicated and intricate plan that I am unable to tell you because... well I just don't like you. And as informative as your rant was, it was also somewhat out of line. Out in left field as they say. I found her, _I_ arranged her life accordingly. You have done nothing except watch. _Watch_," he emphasized with malicious smile. Oh of course she hadn't just _watched_. One of the many things that irked the woman before him was an accusation of incompetence. By the look of the servants, spies, and hunters who failed at their tasks...yes the woman was efficient in her duties.

"If this all fails and the daybreakers are left standing, and I am sure they will, I believe that a stake look fitting in your heart. Your failure will bring most of the Council members to unanimously agree with me."

"It would be the first time," he replied smoothly. "Though I'm sure one member introduced the idea that you have a painful—yet unfortunately not deadly—stick up your ass. And no one was inclined to say otherwise."

"You're impossible," she hissed, ignoring his immaturity. Then she stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard one of the decorative furnishings fell of the wall with a disappointing crack.

Lily Redfern was bitchy, delusional, and entirely over ambitious—all of which Hunter attributed to her mother. The only trait that Hunter was ready to admit passing along to his daughter was her talent of destroying. With a childish frown, he set about repairing his mounted singing bass.

~*~*~*~

Those who believed the beautiful were born lucky were…well, just plain dumb asses. Since she was fourteen, the fourth Wild Power believed bad luck targeted the so called better looking.

Maria Yolken stared silently at the family she dined with. Both her parents had blond hair, and already her younger brother's brown hair lightening. All had sickeningly pale skin. _Yet you are amazingly dark_, she thought to herself. All right, so "dark" was an exaggeration, but there was a noticeable, singular tan. The only similarity she shared with the family was her slender build and lack of height.

No doubt there was a Barbie somewhere, feeling very out of place as she ice fished with her family of Eskimos.

It unnerved them when she stared. _I'll have to stop_, she thought. "So," she began with the pretense of friendliness, "…am I adopted?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Mari." Mrs. Yolken set down her fork, exasperated. "You've asked a thousand times. And I'm going to tell you again, no. As much as you wish it, no. You came from my womb just like your brother." Her mother. Honest to goodness, Maria loved her, but less so when the woman spouted words like "womb" right before dessert. Even the rest of her family cringed, though they knew they were lucky that the doctor hadn't said "uterus."

Mimicking her tone, the girl replied, "And for hell's sake mother it's bad to lie to your own daughter." She used air quotes around the last word that made her father choke with laughter. _Now_, she thought, _there's a man I could not possibly be related too_. _He is really nice and fair and a great guy. Maybe my mother had an affair._

"Now if any one's adopted it's got to be Robby here. After all you're normal, I'm normal, your mother's normal. But Robby's a freak." She couldn't help but smile at her "father's" comment. If any body was any body, she was the freak. Too competitive, too angry, and too impulsive. Like Kelly and Tally last week. It was really their fault they got her so angry to lock them in a closet. And anybody with the name Tally deserved some confining punishment. "What had come over you?" her mother asked when she received the call about the little mishap.

"It's time you told her mom," Rob added solemnly, blue eyes twinkling. With an expression shockingly solemn for one so young, Rob turned to his elder sister and said dramatically, "You're the love child of Julio Iglesias."

"Robby!" Mrs. Yolken scolded while her father laughed and sang, "Starry, starry night…" Maria was ready to let her younger sibling feel the full force of her thrown bread roll before Mrs. Yolken caught her arm.

"Well, I think it's time for the check," her mother interrupted the song brightly, awkwardly sidestepping the rain cloud in their sunny meal. Maria tended to cause many of those. "Excuse me?" A waiter came as Mrs. Yolken summoned the bill. The young girl observed him, for she liked to know what was around her and what were they doing. She yawned, bored, and propped her elbow on the table, waiting to leave the restaurant.

In hindsight, Maria could remember the night perfectly. Every detail, every piece of broken glass, every burn in the carpet. She always remembered things, but that night she wished she could forget. And the screams. Robby had shrieked so loud, he was just so frightened…as was her mother. Mari had brought Robby to the hallway, where it met the living room. Mom was on the other side of the flames but she was so brave. So brave. Mom, _her_ mom, ran through, ran _straight_ through the flames. Mari cheered wildly…

Until her mother came and grabbed Robby's hand.

And then she carried him through a gap through the end of the living room that Mari didn't see. She didn't turn to her, and though that could be excused for panic, she felt something else.

It was because she was fourteen, and Mrs. Yolken knew she could follow on her own, Maria would later tell herself.

"Mommy!" she had yelled. And Mrs. Yolken paused for a moment, but continued in her sprint. "_Mom_!"

Surely, she hadn't heard. Maria frowned, not understanding, as she stared at them. Her mother would have stopped and turned back for her daughter, if she had heard her desperate cry. She wouldn't have simply left her…

"Don't leave me here!" she wanted to shout, and yet the words came out an anguished, embarrassed whisper. The kind of humiliation one associated when asking a stranger for help. Somehow, Maria felt awkward asking her mother to come back for her; as if, perhaps, Mrs. Yolken shouldn't feel obligated to aid the young girl…

But that was _wrong_. Carol Yolken was loving, and good, and brave, and she _would not_ leave her daughter.

Her mother had saved her child without event thinking about the stranger.

Mari hated remembering this part. She stood at the same spot dumbly and then tried to run to the gap, but it was already engulfed by flames. Through the roaring fire feet away from her she saw the hazy figures of mom and Robby.

She _could_ have said there was no way out that way, _could_ have said that that side of the house was going to be burned the worst considering all flammable things were in the garage, the way she supposed her mother wanted to go. As if bidding her command, the flames were already following them.

Instead she stood there silently as the diminishing shadows ran towards the garage stairs. Her father was dead, she learned from the police later it was caused by inhaling the smoke. Mari guessed her mother saw the spreading fire toward the truckload of chemicals and jumped out the window. A four story jump to either the azaleas or the drive way. And her mother would have hated to have the azaleas damaged.

Mari walked calmly to the window in her room and climbed down the drain pipe.

"Nobody would have survived that jump, miss. Even if they had they would have probably been disabled, mentally and or physically." Mari didn't notice the kind, sympathetic smile from the older man's face. She just wore the same cold, unemotional look when they told her it had been an electrical fire. The same dead emptiness in her eyes that her half aunt saw when she moved from her house to a northern part of Georgia.

On the day of her family's funeral, many understood why she didn't talk, greet, or even move. They left her in the church pew as she stared at the three closed coffins. They threw sympathetic looks at the reception when she sat in a foldable chair with a plate of food in her lap that her aunt had given her. She sat there, watching with unmoving eyes as these friends shared stories of her late kind mother, her dead adorable brother, her deceased funny father. The food, along with everything else in the room, grew cold. The metal chair felt like ice. And Mari was freezing in the middle of June. She wasn't sure if it was physical or psychological, but Mari had never felt warm since then. That day, a part of Maria died with her family at age fourteen.

And the only minorly amusing thing that day was some distant cousin who said:

"She looks pretty in her funeral dress."

~*~*~*~

June 4, 1999

"Hey, look over there." Trent hit his partner's arm when he didn't comply. "I said look." Warren's bald head turned to the direction Trent pointed at and gave a low whistle. Trent had to admit that it wasn't really responsible of him to promote gawking at girls while working, but he could barely ignore them when they were at a mall on a Saturday.

"She's probably a non-human, if you know what I mean," Warren said in a low voice, ever the cautious. Trent rolled his eyes, for of course he knew what he meant. After all, "non-human" did not mean galactic alien nor woodland creature. "She's… she's perfect. Perfect eyes, perfect full lips, perfect nose, not to mention a well proportioned body." Trent shook his head.

"Right, and who says 'well proportioned?' The word 'hot' will do fine, my friend. Besides, look she's a little bit shorter than normal. That's not perfect." He pointed out.

But Warren shook his head in turn, as if laughing at his friend's naïve nature. "No, every body knows that being perfect is just annoying. But if you have a flaw, you're imperfect, making you perfect because there's something that makes you…"

"Ahem."

The two turned to see Raksha Keller, who appeared none too happy. Before they could mumble explanations and apologies—which included studying girls' back pockets for hidden weaponry— she spoke sharply. "That girl you were drooling over? Follow her."

Disliking being ordered around in such a clip manner—for Hugh had always been so polite with his orders—Trent asked with uncertain eyes, "Why?"

Keller's expression hardened; she was accustomed to immediate obedience from those of the lower rank. Nissa and Winnie alone were sufficient, but these two were obviously dead weight. "Because that's what you were sent here to do. Make sure nobody gets to her. You know who _nobody_ is. Tell Nissa if she's leaving or not. She'll take it from there." They could hear Keller's growling begin and left immediately.

Nissa, she's leaving, Trent thought as he followed her towards the doors._ She'll be in front of you in a minute. It's up to you. Got it?_ He felt nothing. _Nissa, don't miss her, there's Nightworld citizens who wants to give the lady a ride too. Nissa!_ There was something wrong; she wouldn't play around on something as important as this. He tried again and felt his words bounce against the walls of her mind.

Mari didn't squint when the fierce glare of the sun met her eyes. Ignoring the oh so obvious vulgar remarks from three boys a few feet away from her, she stood, hand on hip, eyes searching for a black topless convertible. While waiting, she saw a black stretch limousine occupying three spaces. Before she could see who was the celebrity honoring the small town shopping center, a gaudy race car brought a rush of wind towards her. The equally gaudy driver flashed her a smile.

"There's my little ice queen. How bout a ride?" Dorian Goldtooth stopped the gawking of the boys with one quelling glance. She found his little pet name more than annoying. It sounded like a two year old trying to say "ice cream" but not developing his R's.

"I'm not anybody's ice queen," she said as she tossed the bags in the back and settled in the passenger seat. "Should I drive?" she asked calmly when he didn't stop smiling at her. She was, as usual, irritated in his presence. Ever since the eighth grade she'd known him to be a perfect being; two rows of pearly white teeth, blonde hair that was amazing no matter how tousled it was, and then his angelic face. Perfection was always irksome to those less than so. Then he would say something and that reminded Mari that he was not _intellectually_ pleasing.

"You will be. Someday…"his eyes flicked over her with some vulgarity, "someday. I feel like traveling today. Feel like going to the country side?" Mari frowned at the proposition, seeing as _everywhere_ was the country side.

"Another session of women's defensive fighting? I'm sorry, but an hour's training dismissed by your hopeful "Next time?" isn't quite that tempting. Just take me home."

"Aw, come on it will be fun." Mari noticed he lost his devil may care charm, but didn't worry. No doubt he was just pouting or the wind blowing between his ears was causing some discomfort. Although she refused, they were now riding through one of the many fields that surrounded the small town of Blossom Springs.

"Dorian, turn around. We could go out another time," she said lightly. Her voice strained oddly at the last word. She coughed violently. How long was it since she last drunk something? Her throat was parched; as if she was swallowing sand.

"Here, your voice sounds pretty bad." She took the drink he handed, not caring what it was. It went down like liquid fire, making Mari cough more.

"Mari are you okay?" The words, concerned or not, were barely registered in Mari's mind. She'd expect for him to be worried about vomiting on the leather interior. The last thing she remembered was a Dorian's perfect eyes.

~*~*~*~

"You could be a little bit more considerate." Really, one of her friends just got knocked out. Instead of being concerned, the team leader simply cleared the surrounding crowd and then ranted about the mission.

"She'll be fine. Nissa get up and stop trying to get out of this." Trent was about to protest again until he felt the supposedly unconscious girl stir in his arms, muttering something unpleasant about Keller.

She stood up and cleared her throat. "We all know that whoever was on the bad guy's side has one hell of a psychic."

Trent took the opportunity to speak up. "I questioned the guys who were standing out here and then wiped them out. They said that she was picked up by a blond boyfriend in a black convertible. They headed west."

Keller asked, "What's west?"

Nissa answered for him. "Fields and that's about it. The road goes on to the highway. No buildings at all. Nobody's there during the day, but at night it's where the 'serious' couples go."

"So…what do we do now?" Warren asked nervously.

"Tell the boss we failed. They got her." The three kept silent, knowing to Keller failing was one of the seven deadly sins.

"Dammit," Keller said softly.

~*~*~*~

Dammit. Thierry closed his eyes as the voice on the other line waited for a command. "Find her. I don't care how, kill sparingly, and make sure she comes back in one piece." They were all stupid orders, but he felt he had to say something. He hung up the phone when he heard a dial tone. Hannah was standing in the doorway when he turned. Neither knew what to say for a few minutes.

"They got her and then they'll kill her." There was a bleak confidence in his voice. Hannah shook her head, a small smile on her lips to comfort him.

"What if they don't? If they're still trying to get a wild power on their side, there's still a chance." After a pause she continued, "Isn't it odd?"

"What is?" he asked as they sat on the couch.

"She is a she. There's Jez, Iliana, and then Delos. You'd think fate would be fair and have another male so it would be even. But destiny, fate, whatever it is can surprise you sometimes."

Thierry twirled a lock of Hannah's golden hair and said quietly, "Fate also says that she will be 'one with the dark' Now what do you suppose that means?"

"That we're screwed." Both looked up to find Jez leaning against the door frame. "Has any one ever seen her use her powers? She could just be another one of those false cases."

"Because Grandma Harman and the Maiden had vague visions about her before… and then some other minor psychics did as well. If it isn't her she's got to have a twin." Jez narrowed her eyes at his attempt of a joke. He changed the subject. "Listen, two weeks from now others will be coming. Did Nilsson tell you that you would have to clear your stuff out of some of the guest rooms?"

"Yes dad," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Where's Morgead?"

Her grim face softened slightly by the mention of her soul mate. "He's around. How are we going to live after New Year's if we don't get her?"

Hannah thought for a minute then answered softly. "Whatever happens, was meant to happen. If we die, then we were supposed to die." She laughed. "Sounds cliché, doesn't it?"

Jez stood for a minute, digesting the heavy words. With a grimace, the girl left for her room.

Thierry smiled down at his soul mate. "That's the first time I've seen her speechless."

~*~*~*~

June 8, 1999

Mari had once read a book where a girl was awake but didn't open her eyes to find out more information from her kidnappers. It wasn't helping her now. She heard absolutely nothing, save the constant humming of the world outside, which she guessed she was speeding past. There was leather under her, now sticking to her cheek. Cautiously she opened her eyes, expecting to find herself in Dorian's back seat. With one movement she was sitting up, looking into the rear view mirror where the driver's pale green eyes were.

"Hello," she said shortly. Mari didn't believe in shooting accusations until she knew what exactly the situation was. And she had always planned to die with dignity, and if this was the day she wasn't going to botch those plans by screaming hysterically. Panic attacks tended to be somewhat detrimental to one's dignity.

"Hello." He had a surprisingly deep voice for a man of his appearance. He didn't look older than twenty five.

"These ropes on my wrists are a bit bothersome. Anything you could do about that?" After three years of living with her aunt and her servants, Mari had become accustomed to having that superior voice towards the help. She saw the driver smile.

"If you promise not to stab me or anything."

"I doubt that would help you considering I never keep any promises." Mari slipped out the last of the rope coils and, like a cat out of water, jumped forward to wrap the rope around his neck.

"This is a very interesting rope, sir. Thinner than most, yet it took some time for me to slip out of it. And it makes you seem uncomfortable, if you don't mind me saying so." She pulled tighter as he tried to swerve, and the ropes dug into his neck, leaving angry welts. Her feet were bundled up as well, but she didn't have time to loosen those.

"There's no use you know." It made Mari smile, inwardly of course, that the deep soothing voice was now strained. He continued, "There are others behind us. Where ever you go, they go." She sighed mentally and reluctantly removed the rope, gave his cheek a little pinch and settled back in her seat. To stay preoccupied, she began to unwind the cords around her numb ankles.

"That ruins everything, doesn't it?" He glowered. "Come now, let's not turn sour. Is this a casual kidnap and ransom deal or is it far more interesting?" She spoke in her usual voice, not in the least affected by the situation. Over the years she made herself believe that the events of the course of her life would prove unimportant when she was dying. So this was _nothing_ when it all came down to the end, when she finally reached the opportunity to tell God just what she thought of him and all his stupid plans_._ Mortal pain was probably a small itch compared to holy wrath. Or so she theorized, any way.

"More interesting than you could imagine." He cut her off before she spoke. "But you doubt that would help considering you don't imagine." She gave a brittle smile.

"You read my mind," she murmured then noted her surroundings. "Tinted windows, sunroof, extra space, and little wine bottles. Could this be a limousine?" Although she never really changed her tone, sarcasm was heavy in her words.

"I see the beauty is also accompanied with brains. And we are here." Mari was about to say it was a short ride when she realized she had been unconscious for who knew how long. Ever since…

"Where is my…friend? Dorian where is he?"

"Who?"

The ridiculous tranquillity she had before was swiftly fleeing her. This could be the woods, where she could be raped or tortured or both… or worse. She pushed all thoughts, rational and crazy, aside and took the offered hand as she stepped out of the limo. What she saw was bitterly disappointing. _A castle?_ She thought. _Well, isn't that just thrilling. _To her left another car pulled up. "What day is it?" she asked as she noted each of the passengers that stepped out.

"Wednesday." _Really_, she thought. Four and a half days all in one nap.

There were eight males in all. The driver cleared his throat and motioned her to follow them as they headed toward the massive estate. Mari momentarily stood where she was to show that she was not some prize cattle to be herded about. And the fact that the men a few feet away from her eyed her as she was Bessie on a slaughterhouse field trip was another reason to stay put. Two began to move towards her.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Just don't touch me." She sounded like one of the snobby peroxide blondes on the cheerleading squad more than she formerly thought possible. Not to mention bitchy, she thought with dreary amusement.

In retrospect, what she had done was truly out of character and, frankly put, stupid. But it was surprising that she would turn into one of those desperate fools, who were reactionary at any window of opportunity. The eight men, eight killing, obviously dangerous, devious, callous—and so forth—murderers could have had driven Satan himself to run away whimpering, if it was not Satan himself who created them.

Taking a deep breath, Mari stepped forward to the men and…turned a heel and ran the other direction. At the moment she didn't give damn if the direction led to a women's penitentiary, as long as she didn't have to face the hunters. Mari hadn't actually thought how fast they would be; she only thought of how fast she _had_ to be. Speed was natural to her, at least in this moment, when faced with a handful of potential murderers and possibly a Blair Witch behind her. She yelped when an ungentle hand clamped down on her arm. A tall boy with white silvery hair had little smile on his full lips.

What the hell?! Mari could have sworn she ran a good half a mile ahead of them and the last time she looked back there was no one following her.

"Where are you going?" He asked as if they were old roommates, sitting down to breakfast. Mari fought the urge to respond with "Nut 'n honey." She was struggling, trying to stop the tears of physical pain in her eyes. Even without effort, the boy applied so much pressure that Mari was sure the bone was being bruised. He repeated the question in chiding tones.

"Bird watching. I heard they have those funny, flying things in the forest. Would you like to join me?" Mari gave a false smile. When strength, speed, and logic failed her she could always count on her sarcasm. "Or would you believe I saw a dollar on the ground? Apparently, a dollar can get me good long distance rates."

He laughed in dark rich chuckles. "All right, midget, we have no time for games right now. Right now we have to get you into that castle. Okay?" He began to walk towards the group she had left in long effortless strides, forcing Mari to jog to keep up with him. _Back to the snake pit_, she thought and then felt belated umbrage for the midget comment.

It disturbed Mari to the point of violence when she saw all of the fast-and-fury men were all amused at her failed attempt at flight. They were wearing noticeable smiles, in their eyes or on their lips, when they escorted her to the door. Mari could have told them it wasn't necessary, that she wouldn't run away again, but then again she didn't really know if she'd have another lapse of insanity.

Her eyes moved to the men surrounding her. She hadn't really noticed it before, perhaps due to the soberness of her situation, but they were all extremely handsome. Those stunning looks only found once in every other high school were owned by all eight surrounding men. Mari knew that if she was a normal, boy crazy girl she'd be swooning by now. But even if she were, just the way they _were_ would stop that. Mari felt like an innocent little newborn baby at the hands of little red men with tails and pitch forks.

No. No, of course not. She refused to believe that. She was Mari, the ice princess extroidanaire, the pinnacle of apathy, and the only girl in school who could challenge anybody from the football captain to Castro and win. She was not, nor ever going, to show that she was vulnerable. They had expressions as if carrying a conversation, one even laughed, and, although he made it seem as if he hadn't meant to, the little smile he kept told Mari it was also meant to frighten her more. They weren't talking and yet…they were communicating, somehow.

They reached the door in a matter of minutes, which opened the instant they reached the top step of the mountain of stairs. Mari thought the young woman who opened it was unnaturally yet naturally breathtaking. It was at this point when she began to ponder the possibility that she was dreaming of simply beautiful people who plainly didn't like her. As she thought this, the woman who eyed her distastefully was leading her up a flight of stairs. Comparatively, she was a great improvement from the men who had escorted her here, where ever here was. In her thoughts, Mari had not heard one of the men call "Hope to see you again Maria." after her. Maybe some small little part of her mind had heard it and shuddered at the intimate timbre in his chilling voice, but her only weapon now was to show no fear and ignore the distractions.

Another part of her mind was also wondering _why?_ Why was she being taken away, why was she brought to a castle, why did they want her if not for money. It was one of the few moments in the past years when she actually felt fear. No, she didn't like that word…terror. She had worn the mask of stolidity for so long it had frozen on her face, like so many mothers told their gullible daughters.

She was told to sit in a well furnished sitting room, silk cushioned throne chairs, tables and rugs embedded with jewels and lined with gold. There was already a man sitting in one of the huge seats, sipped some wine, and then stood as she came in. He indicated the chair in front him, settled back in the chair, and slowly finished his glass, his eyes never leaving hers.

Mari sat, wishing she could do something, wishing she did something before, but something was always keeping her. She was also wishing she was bigger, stronger so that she could have ran faster or fought or at least have her feet touch the floor when she sat back in the chair. She settled for leaning forward and feet planted firmly on the floor, so as not to show her size.

He had an air of authority, yet was laid back and calm. He had sleek black hair that was fading into a gleaming silver in some places, green eyes that were uncannily clear, and pale skin. Any middle aged woman would have fallen in love with him in less than a second.

"I suppose you're wondering why you have been brought here." He sounded like an aged Casanova, except with a British accent.

Maria slouched slightly with disappointment. With his appearance, plus the creepy castle, and all the antiquity of everything… She had fully expected the new stranger to say with outreaching hands, "I vant to suck vour blood!"

"Well, it was just a nagging little thought for the past few days. Let me think…hell yes," she answered.

He nodded as if remembering a fond memory and pointed out smoothly, "Granted you been napping for the past few days. Nobody will miss you for a while. We sent a note to your aunt, explaining that you'll be off to Las Vegas. Place to be for summer vacation. You don't have any friends that will ask, conveniently enough."

"And what about Dorian?" Again her terror had heightened, and she felt that the mysterious man before had caught it. _This play-it-cool thing is definitely not working_, she thought, and tried to even harder to emulate James Dean. But the narrowing of eyes only hindered her vision and there were no brick walls to lean against.

But if Dorian was still alive, then he could do something, call the police, tell her aunt where she really was… storm the castle on a white steed for all she cared; she just wanted _out._

He shook his head and shut his eyes. _Oh, he looks sad_, Mari thought with childish simplicity. _Why would he be sad?_ The man then said, "I'm sorry, Maria. They killed him. They killed him before we got there."

Oh…no.

No.

Dorian died. Because of her. She caused _another_ death. Dorian was so charming and…charming. What else was there? Before she could fully mourn her loss he spoke again.

"Maria… do you mind if I call you that?"

"Mari," she corrected gloomily.

"Of course. Mari, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Now this may sound untruthful but it is true. I _never_ lie Mari. We have you here in this castle to protect you. I—" Before he could continue, Mari cut him off with a short burst of girlish laughter. False, of course, but mocking enough to show that she wasn't as gullible as he'd hoped she would be. And to stop the hurt. She hadn't felt it in so long that it seemed like it was slicing through her heart, more than just an emotion being made somewhere in her brain. The man before was still staring darkly, so she gave a shrug.

"Sorry. Just that it was my first James Bond-X files moment there. Okay, okay, I'll listen now." He cleared his throat and began.

"Since you have no will for beginnings, I'll get right to the point. I'm a vampire. See?" He curled his upper lip, revealing long needle like fangs. He seemed to be in no mood for interruptions but Mari was curious. She moved closer with narrowed eyes. They _looked_ real… She moved up until she was a few inches away from him. Before she could touch them they retracted back into normal sized teeth. Those were definitely not fake.

"Hell spawned?" she asked with a shaky laugh. Then she sighed and shrugged at the ceiling. "Why not? Kidnapped by ravishing, Speedy Gonzalas men, trapped in a castle, my _only_ friend is killed, and nobody would ever know. Not enough reasons to make me believe, but the fangs will do it." Besides, it wasn't that strange. It was like discovering a hidden tribe in the Amazon, or learning that a mythical fish in the ocean was real.

Not that strange? Her mind repeated angrily. _Getting a paper cut is not that strange. Being kidnapped by vampires is pretty fucking strange!_

"Eep," she let out with almost comical fear.

"I'm sorry, this isn't going the way I planned. It's a shock, I know, to have these horrible things thrown at you at once, but you must listen. We're keeping you here to protect you from the people who killed your friend. This organization is called the Night World." He paused when she made a face. He rolled his eyes and said, "What?"

She shrugged, unused to being forced to explain herself. "The 'Night World'? It just sounds little cheesy that's all. It's like as cheesy as…okay I got one. The Dark Planet. The Evil Black Hearts. The Midnight Stalkers. Mess with them and you'll rue the day you were born." He sat humorless and impatient. Mari sat back disappointed. She had even showed genuine movie effects there and he hadn't even appreciated it. Then he gave a little smile. Yes, she liked this man.

"If we're done with the movie trailers, I'll continue. The organization consists of witches, werewolves, and shape shifters, who change forms from human like to animals. They live among your people, as if they were one of your kinds. But there are some who are against us. They don't believe that our kind should carry on their ways of living."

Mari didn't like that careful tone of voice. "Ways of living, you say? And, do tell, what would that be?"

"Do you condemn others for eating chicken? Steak? Pork Chops? We are vampires, and in order to live we need your blood. Earlier you called me hell spawned. Well perhaps this is it. In order to live, we need you. We need your blood. Yes it's terrible, but do you expect us to ignore our instincts? To slowly die because of starvation. And we don't kill your people when we drink their blood, like so many humans think." His voice was compelling and reasonable.

If not for his tone, she would have giggled over the word "vampire." True, she had eaten meat, for protein and because it tasted good. What made her feel guilty was the fact that cows, piggies and chickens did die for her to live. Here vampires just sipped the juice box and left.

"What about those animal people?"

He smiled again, that gentle, amused smile. "Well they need guts. No, I don't mean the expression, dear, I mean they must eat the guts. Some can control themselves and eat them from animals but if they hadn't fed properly over a period of time, they may be driven to kill humans. But it's the same way a wolf kills a rabbit so he won't die." It all made sense to Mari. There were times when she watched in psychology, videos of coyotes, bears, and lions hunting and devouring beasts, large or small, for the sake of life. It had never affected her like it did the others then, so why should it now?

"Why," she began slowly, avoiding his kind, emerald gaze, "would you want to protect me? I mean, what do I have to do with anything?"

He took a breath and she could see he was searching for the proper way to tell her something. Something very important. She suddenly didn't want to know. The news he was about to tell was somehow going to change her life and she didn't want her life changed. But he took a breath and she saw she was about to receive her life sentence.

"They have three people who are like you. These people have powers. And in order to have that peak of that power they need you by the end of the year. But we don't want them to manipulate you like they did the others, Maria. We don't want that to happen again. So we're going to protect, hide you until then. Please don't think that we abducted you to lock you up in this prison. We're going to make everything comfortable. Please," He stopped, unable to go on.

Mari had no idea why he was saying please. Please what? Did she really have a choice in the matter when there were supernatural beings ready to stop her even if she wanted to leave? He shook his head.

"I'm sorry but I couldn't help hearing—"

"Hearing? I didn't say anything."

"Er…your thoughts. Vampires can hear your thoughts."

"Hey buddy, my thoughts are off limits," she protested heatedly. "And…are you sure you can?" Mari didn't like the prospect of constantly guarding her sarcastic and violent thoughts from those around her. For instance, almost against her will, her eyes flickered over the vampire sitting before her.

Great bod, she noted, face never losing its icy veneer.

"Thanks," he replied, blushing a bit.

"Damn," she muttered, and tried with all her power to block out mortifying thoughts. "Continue."

"They picked you up so I could explain it to you. But if you want you can go. You can go back to your Blossom Fields and wait to be picked up by the Daybreakers, so they can persuade you to become another one of their victories. A trophy, a pawn. You can go back," he repeated.

Mari sat very still and began to think. First of all there was no way out; no windows and no openings except the door, which most likely led to a dark hallway. So the option was to stay and cooperate for the time being. Then she would see whether she wanted to be protected, or if they were all psychos who thought she had powers. Then she reviewed the people who might help. This man said she had powers, so he was offering protection in the form of a castle-prison. Protection from another group of whatevers who might brainwash her. And this man was being really nice to her. Nicest anyone has been for a long time… too long. After all he said he never lied.

"Um…you just heard everything I thought, huh?"

"Pretty much," he answered with a small grin.

A slow smile spread across her lips, what some people called her killing smile. But it wasn't; it was just a little curve that showed she made a decision. If they were violent, blood thirsty decisions, it was their own fault. "Well, a castle isn't so bad."

This time Mari was able to see a full, happy, actually exuberant, smile on his face. "I'd hug you, but that's improper. We have a lot of work to do. First you have to meet the man who found out about you and decided to save you."

~*~*~*~

July 15, 1999

"She did what?!" The couple had come for a visit to their favorite mansion, despite protests from several daybreakers who were assigned to protect them.

"With that, that…snake. We're going to die, that's for certain. Dammit! We worked so hard. Dammit!" He kicked a chair across the room for emphasis.

"You know," Maggie told Jez, "one of the reasons I love him is his optimism. He's always looking at the bright side of things. And when he says 'dammit' it's only because he cares." She and Jez laughed, making Delos's head turn.

"I find no humor in the fact that the last person we need to save the earth just did a blood tie ceremony with a dead Hunter Redfern." His soul mate rose from the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. Morgead thought this would only infuriate him more, but Delos visibly relaxed.

Oh, he thought, she must have said something to him. Morgead cleared his throat. "Not dead, pal. A witch brought him back, then she died. And as for the girl, we still got five more months. Something's bound to happen." He hoped Jez noticed his calmness. She had told him the other day that he never looked at situations rationally. "It's all just kill somebody, save the day to you. Never thinking," she had told him. He saw she nodded approvingly and he smiled back.

"We have to go save her," a new voice broke in with absolute certainty. Four pairs of eyes turned to greet Lord Thierry and Lady Hannah as they walked into the living room. Maggie ever the woman of etiquette, squealed and jumped from Delos's arms to greet the couple.

"I thought you guys were out on a meeting or something," Maggie said as she hugged Hannah. The girls were almost the same age yet when they were together it was as if Hannah was a grandma Maggie came to visit. Delos guessed it was an Old Soul thing to always look wiser.

"We were. Then we came home." Delos came to shake hands with the Elder and then to kiss the hand of Hannah. Jez and Morgead simply waved.

While Maggie gave the customary punch to Thierry's arm that he really didn't feel, Morgead asked, "How do you propose we do that?"

"We're sending some of our best to 'spy' on the castle. The limited number of men will go to investigate or kill them. That leaves the girl with another limited number of men that our people will kill; cue sweeping the girl to safety." Thierry's manner suggested there wasn't any other plan.

"Any other residents nearby?" Maggie asked what Jez was wondering herself.

Hannah shook her head. "We had Aradia do a little psychic searching on the island she's on. Apparently, Redfern wants her completely isolated from any other Night World citizens other than the ones she's already begun to trust. It would ruin the image of the innocent vampires, werewolves, shape shifters who have no choice than to listen to their instincts blah, blah, blah."

"Guess they don't want her to see that most of the hunters take pleasure out of their meals," Morgead remarked.

"Duh genius," Maggie said as she plopped down next to him. He gave an annoyed look but could never really scare the girl, especially with her prince near.

"This human was willingly brought into the Redfern Clan by the head of it himself." Jez said wonderingly. "A human, for goddess' sake, and he was the one who hated half breeds," she said with a supercilious sniff.

"Maybe she won't stay human for long," Delos said what nobody else wanted to consider. Then Thierry ruined the properly gloomy atmosphere by noticing:

"Who broke my chair?" Though never admitting to the crime, Delos sheepishly volunteered to find some super glue.

~*~*~*~

July 16, 1999

Mari wore an Asian red silk dress and found that the narrow skirt hindered her walking. Proper attire was a must when she endured a meeting with Hunter Redfern, for he clearly disliked her normal jeans and tank top armor. For the first two weeks she was given the same dresses she saw out of fairy tale books but they were simply unbearable. However did Snow White manage to run through the woods without accumulating half the forestry under her petticoats?

So she made Hunter settle for the present day styles, and Mari's shrewd eyes saw he was none too happy to relent. Hunter Redfern was all fake and no fun, so she believed, and she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. Though, really, it would be fun to try and toss that full grown man out the window…

Now the first man she met, however, was an entirely different story. The tough façade was, what she believed, a cover up to…something softer. She once had a child hood friend, a one eyed alley cat was named Mr. Shamblepix, and just as she had used the name to irritate the ugly feline, she did so now to the aging father figure. From her former driver, Leo, she learned his name was Carn Lancin and that he wasn't "the greatest guy in the world." But to the best of her own knowledge, Carn was indeed a softy named Mr. Shamblepix underneath the layer of evilness. Most people just couldn't see that, just as most people couldn't really see the real her.

They were both misunderstood, Mari rationalized. In the others' absence, he'd linger longer than necessary to chat, or debate, or give her stern lectures concerning the lack of modesty in her wardrobe. Mari had been at first surprised, and then amused by his grudging fatherly attitude. Carn told her he wasn't being soft, just doing what he wanted to do. Of course.

Lancin had informed her that his team would not bother her, and would most likely to treat her as a little sister in need of protection. But facts were they did bother her, and their brotherly thoughts appeared incestuous and in need of latex protection. After weeks of denial in Carn's part, he finally ensured with a few threatening words that no "coupling," as he worded it, would happen. And in addition to these changes, Mari had a new family. A large new family from what she had heard, with grandsons and great grandsons and distant relatives in other species. Hunter was acting like the model father, but in Mari's opinion, Carn was surpassed him easily.

At the moment she was sitting on her wide bed, which was also covered in silk. She didn't like living like this, with strange beds that would teeter like a see saw and nobody but the boys to talk to. Ancient indoor plumbing, no electricity, and drafty marble floors. Through the narrow slits some might call windows, she heard the boys training and planning. The boys, she mused, were under the authority of a leader, who was under the authority of Carn, who was under the authority of Hunter. And Hunter was definitely not the type to be under anyone's thumb.

That leader…what was his name? Valdis…Valdis Eldson. He didn't like her or the way his men were distracted when she came to visit. That's why she was sitting very still on her bed, thinking about how he had told her to go back to her room after she slipped out while Hunter was detained_. As if I was a child_, she thought disgustedly. _No_, she thought, _as if I was vermin_. She had heard him say it enough to know she was the subject. "That vermin this, that vermin that," she mocked him, childishly. "To tell the truth I am getting rather sick of it." Unlike the girl who just looked at her wrong and got fired, Carn pretended not to notice Valdis' words.

Without knowing why, she began to dwell on the subject. Valdis didn't like her because of her species. But if she was a vampire, would he begin to like her? She pushed the thought aside hastily. Pleasing that bigot was the last thing on her to-do list.

True, he was handsome, but not exotically so like the rest of the men. His red hair was unlike any color she had seen on anybody before, his eyes a mixture of cerulean blue and jungle green. But they weren't very original. Red hair and blue eyes, big deal. And even though there was always an argument when they met, there was always respect for each other's stubborn looks in their eyes when they regarded each other. Mari told herself it was just a small, tiny crush. No, not even barely qualifying as a crush, just a small trip to insanity.

The side of the bed where she sat rose suddenly and she turned, expecting to see Mr. Shamblepix, but found the silver blond haired boy grinning at her. _Oh yeah_, she thought, _he's the one who caught me when I tried to run. _She hadn't seen him since the first day she was brought here.

"That dress suits you," he said. "Then again you would look beautiful in anything." He smiled that almost made Mari's heart melt. But she refused to show it. Mari was becoming tired of every vampire here thinking she would be unable to resist them and that meant a ticket to a bounce on the mattress. Mari liked to remind them she wasn't another helpless victim to their stunning looks. And this man expected for her to warm up with merely two sentences.

But then again, some incurably vain part of her mind thought, it was the truth. The dress made her look even more exotic, as if she would fit in perfectly somewhere in Asia. Mari made a point of finding out who her parents were when she left the castle, and kick their asses for not keeping her.

"Is that all?" she asked with her old voice. She liked using it, and enjoyed the way it made others cower. But it did nothing here save annoy Valdis. "I'm trying to think." That was as composed as she could be when her side of the bed was still up in the air. He stood up abruptly, making her land back on the bed boards with a thump. He sat close beside her but not close enough to make her uncomfortable.

"I know you've been restless." _Of course you know, nit wit, you can read minds._ "And I also know that Carn has been teaching you how to fight, protect yourself and, if necessary kill." She nodded, not really interested, but so that he'd continue. "Well, I found out that there are Daybreakers near here. In a cottage in the woods, trying to pass of as Night people." He sighed when he saw she was examining her nails. "Maria, it's them. The people who killed your friend when they were trying to get you."

Mari stopped breathing long enough for the stranger to notice. When she wasn't vexing Valdis, or chatting with the others, she thought of Dorian. It took her a while to think of some other qualities he had besides charm. Like humor, or what he thought was humor, but at least he tried to make her laugh. And the way he still talked to her despite the numerous times she had been inexcusably cruel to him. Loyalty, one of the few things valued. _I think I cried_, she told herself_, but I'm not sure_. From the beginning she was angry with the killers. Talking about it only added fuel to it. But her anger now wasn't like as it was at the beginning; that bubbling, seething rage that made her teeth hurt. It was a serene, calm ire that was made the earlier feeling of hate appears like a little miff. Mr. Stranger brought her back to earth.

"Maria," he began softly.

"It's Mari." She was tired of this man, this political world, and tired of being called Maria. She didn't even know her informant. "It's Mari. What's your name?"

"Alastair. Alastair Orin. Maria…er…Mari, I know it's not my place to say so, but your mind is like a satellite here. Anybody can tell you're bent on revenge."

His words rang in Mari's mind. Revenge? Well, maybe her anger had been festered around that thought. But how would she do it? She would need to know how Dorian died, so as the murderers would suffer the same fate. If he died slowly and painfully, they would spend even more time with torture, left alone to the point when they think they could escape. Then Mari would kill them with a dragging death. If he died fast and without much pain, then they could watch there friends or accomplices die quickly. Mari never thought like this before, and was surprised when she could do so quite easily.

"So you're asking me if I want to go?"

"Yes. I just thought you should know, because you don't seem to be healing with his death and it looks like if you keep going on as you do, you won't ever. You'll end up as one of those bitter, possibly insane old ladies that lives with a thousand cats. Now, I'm not saying that you should kill these people, just confront them…"

"But, Alastair, in order to heal, as you say, I'm just going to have to kill them." She was calm, sounding like a slightly distressed house wife with a surprise guest. And her mind was set; nothing, _nothing_, was going to change her decision.

Alastair searched for words. "This isn't what I wanted you to do." When she didn't answer, he continued. "It isn't going to help." More silence. "Well, if Carn finds out you're going with us as a wannabe Buffy, there's no way you're getting out of this castle." Mari turned to look at him without focusing on his features.

"But you won't tell him Alastair, will you? After all I'm just coming to learn, darling." Alastair became cautious at the tone of her voice, which had suddenly become certain and alluring. He noticed she slowly scooted over, until her head was touching with his shoulder. How is she going to kill daybreakers when she's so tiny? he thought.

"How is it that you haven't been around the other boys?" If Alastair didn't know any better, he'd have sworn she was either flirting with him or making sure he'd keep his mouth shut. She leaned her head against his shoulder, sable hair spilling out of the pins that had been holding it up. He took a breath. She was only human after all, and anybody could resist humans.

"I don't usually work with Valdis and his crew. I only come when they really need me," he replied smoothly. She may be had a strange effect on him, but he was determined that the damn crafty little vermin wouldn't see it.

"You know I haven't had any visitors besides the old people. Stay a while." Her hands were playing with his hair, her breath was warm against his neck. He was going to have to stop this, before she finished what ever she planned.

He stood up and in front of her, making her land gracefully on a pillow. She stretched comfortably, the dress showing every curve the girl could have. "What is it, Alastair?" _This girl can't be human_, he thought dazedly, _she's too…inhuman. Shouldn't she be feeling guilty about playing with my feelings?_ Up until that point, Alastair hadn't heard of a heartless human.

"I…I have to feed. You know drink blood, drink some innocent being's blood." That ought to bring back from whatever delusional world she was in. Thinking she could seduce him, ha!

She tilted her head so that her shining hair fell away, revealing a beautiful bronze neck. "Really? Must you leave then? We could always have a little fun."

"Um, yes," he muttered quickly. "I have to go." He rushed to the door and left without saying good bye.

Mari smiled in satisfaction. Alastair wouldn't be a problem, at least to her. Now all she had to do was convince Carn she had to go. It was simple really. They treated her like a spoiled child and if she pouted and sulked enough, they would give in. Men always gave in.

He still wore a smile, although a bit confused, as he walked down the hall. Now he had to tell Hunter he had her all riled up so the Daybreakers could see which side she was on. Hunter loved a show.

~*~*~*~

July 24, 1999

Rashel didn't approve of working with the kids she was supposed to baby sit, but where they went she went. And that meant staying in a luxurious cottage with a wild power, a wild power's soul mate, her soul mate, and about fifty other people. Word from the head quarters was Hunter was very sure of himself and had only sent thirty men to protect the castle. That meant fifteen or so here and a few left to protect the girl. Right now all she had to do was wait for them. Rashel felt the couch shift its weight and greeted her soul mate with a nod, which he returned. She felt him take her hand.

This is a stupid plan, John, she thought to him.

True, but what other choice do we have? Rashel shook her head at the reply. Problem was there was no plan B. If they failed then they just left. And if the girl knew how to use her powers, the only way of leaving was the wind carrying their ashes away.

Is Hunter stupid enough to have the girl at the mission? Probably not. Rashel wanted to believe him, but there was always that small possibility when Hunter used that stupidity. Hunter in his former self had always had some screws loose; death and resurrection had probably dissembled his mind completely. She felt John laugh.

Also true. But if Hunter just delivers the girl, that's not stupid, it's called political suicide. Hey come here.

Do you think you can just tell me where to go? Rashel asked as she scooted over to John's welcoming arm.

Of course I can, woman. She punched him in the chest, making him wince.

Oh, I didn't mean to punch that hard. There was an obvious lack of sincerity on her part.

I know, you just punched where you "accidentally" hit me with a bat yesterday.

That **was**_ an accident._

"Rashel, Quinn." They looked up to find Fayth standing over them. Rashel learned after they joined Circle Daybreak that the girl was annoyingly efficient when it came to missions. And anything that didn't relate to the mission was unnecessary. Rashel wasn't sure if she did the right thing saving her life years back.

You did, you did. Just have to bear her irritating bossy-ness.

Rashel sighed. _Well, **I'm** the boss, here._ "What is it, Fayth?"

"They're coming. About twenty miles from here, walking mostly. Hundred men. Twenty werewolves. Twenty five shape shifters. Rest vampires."

Quinn shot up. "Hundred! Where the hell did they get hundred? And I thought they would have some at least guarding Rapunzel over there!"

"Must have flown in this morning. Fifty to a hundred. Slim chances of living," Rashel said in a neutral voice.

A tall boy with black hair swaggered into the bed room. "Are we forgetting that we have a wild power here? My girl can take them out easy in the blink of an eye." Now Rashel was sure she didn't like Morgead. Way too arrogant for his own good.

" 'Your girl'? What am I ? Your weapon? Please." Jez stepped into the room, roughly pushing Morgead aside. "Problem is Einstein, we can't kill the other wild power. Sort of messes up that whole save her plan. Then again she could kill us from where ever she is right now." Rashel nodded in worried agreement.

"What do we do?" Fayth asked dismally.

"Fight." Rashel and Quinn said in unison. Quinn smiled and said to Jez, "Nothing else to do. If the girl's with them, you're going to try to get to her and then keep her safe."

"And if not, take out a good half of the team with whatever you got." Rashel interrupted. She wasn't sure if it was right letting Jez use her power just to protect them, but she knew Jez would make the choice herself. The red haired girl nodded, eyes determined.

Morgead sat for a moment, calculating. "We have about twenty vampires here. Each can take two, possibly three," he said, knowing he put a gross amount of faith in each team member. But he always had a high opinion of his species, impartially of course. "That leaves sixty. Then we got about seventeen shape shifters who could take two, which leaves twenty one and the wild power for the rest."

Some thought this to be some good and hopeful arithmetic. Others…"We're dead," Fayth said flatly.

Rashel pulled herself up and stretched. "We all die someday, Fayth. I don't see why you're so afraid of it."

She heard Fayth say to her soul mate as she left to command the others, "Quinn, I think your methods to madness are rubbing off on her."

~*~*~*~

"Why don't you just put me in an iron box?" Mari yelled to Valdis ahead of her. She had to tip toe because she was once surrounded again, not by eight men, but twelve. They were walking to the cottage of Dorian's killers and Carn ordered Valdis to keep her safe.

Mari was so damn safe she couldn't move without bumping into somebody.

Although she could only see the back of his head, Mari knew he rolled his eyes. "If I could, I would and then I'd drop you down the Atlantic Ocean to watch your little frantic bubbles float to the surface. But right now, I have to save your petite ass from harm's way."

It gave her irrational pleasure, no matter how tiny, to hear he had noticed her "petite ass." They had been tossing insults and threats back and forth for an hour now. Mari wished she could stab him with the new dagger Mr. Shamblepix had given her.

"I was going to give it to my son," he had said. "But seeing as I don't have one, I'd like you to have it. You'll need it, any way." There was that same old roughness over tenderness when he spoke. Mari thanked him with a small smile that was a great effort.

The knife itself was simply beautiful. It was made out of three materials; mahogany, silver, and iron. It was in the pattern of a braid, the ends twirling together until they made a sharp needle point. The mahogany was a deep reddish brown, the silver gleaming with delicate designs, and the iron had strange words imprinted in it. The handle had sapphires and diamonds encrusted in the hilt, making it worth more anything anybody had given her.

On this outing, she mused, there were more than vampires. There were many animal people, too. All made her uncomfortable when they looked at her. She wished she could walk with Mr. Shamblepix, who was at the head of the army. He told one of the shape shifters that if she grew tired he would have to change into his bear form and she would ride on his back. Mari didn't care if she had to walk on her hands through the forest; there was no way to make her ride on any body's back.

To make matters worse, she had to wear a dress. There was such a short notice when she decided to fight alongside everybody else that nobody could go out and buy her new clothes and they had thrown out the jeans she wore when they kidnapped, ahem, saved her. So it happened she was wearing a pale green dress with darker green, little leaves sprayed over it. Feminine camouflage. The skirt was a problem, reaching mid thigh and possibly flying up if she jumped. She was lent one of the boys' boxers and made them smaller to fit her.

Her only comfort was the awaiting death of Dorian's murderers. She yelled out again. "The day you drop me in the Atlantic is the day you pull that stick out of your ass and get an IQ bigger than your shoe size. Which believe me, isn't that big! And you know what they say about shoe sizes…"

~*~*~*~

"Rashel!" The battle was on. They had surrounded the cabin and closed in bringing two to one, no matter who was who. Nobody was dead yet but a good number were injured.

"What? Shit!" She narrowly missed the fangs of the vamp she was tussling with when Quinn staked him from behind. He was holding his side, where she guessed there was another future battle scar.

"Hawk found her. She's being held far from the fights as possible, but he says she's fighting to be let go. Where's Jez?"

Fayth bumped into Quinn from behind before stabbing a wolf in the neck. "Fighting like a savage a south from here. Maybe a mile, two miles. She chased some bears down there." Rashel determined this was a good thing, because if she and the bears were the only ones down there, the night people would stay focused on her team up here. Nonetheless…

"Send five men down there. I don't care who just do it." She saw Quinn eyes widen for a moment then ducked and swung her leg out to trip whoever was behind her. He fell with a thud and she took the opportunity to stab his throat and then her sword took a trip to his heart. "John, are we playing tourist here? Go do something!" Her next opponent was the most adorable puppy she had ever seen. He died in his teenage form.

It had been like this for twenty minutes or so. No time to throw some clever parting words with the dying Night people, just kill, and then kill the next. And still no indication of the girl's powers.

Rashel had enough in the living room and then stepped outside to the porch to try to stop the enemy from coming in. Then she saw her.

~*~*~*~

Mari couldn't breathe properly. She was sure the short shallow breaths were due to the sight before her. The men she knew, some she didn't know, were killing. She walked slowly in a straight line towards the cottage, people parting like the Red Sea before her.

She was tired, getting away from the boys had taken so much work. Valdis gave her such a hard time, even threatening her to drag her back to the castle. That didn't work. The last she saw of Valdis were his eyes fill with anxiety and concern. He wanted to keep her safe, she could tell that much. But she didn't want to be safe. She wanted to find Carn.

Carn lied to her.

CARN.

LIED.

TO.

ME.

The phrase rang in her ears, the words were the only image in her eyes, and the pain the truth caused banging in her head. Because the carnage here was pleasure to the Night People. They were smiling at the corpses, people who were trying to defend themselves. They were laughing when the people fell pathetically to the ground in agony. He was probably lying about the Daybreakers, her powers, and…Dorian. Dorian the only reason she came. But he was lying about _everything_, everything that mattered in her life. Her only friend was probably killed by Carn himself.

"Carn lied to me. Carn lied to me." Mari repeated it softly, a ghostly melody in an angelic voice. He said that they couldn't help what they had to do, that they were just listening to their instincts. But he lied. Because this wasn't instinctive murdering; her guards, her companions, had sought this out and were relishing the glory of having a life leave at their hand. They were happy.

The cottage loomed closer and closer. _The bastard made me trust him_, she thought with a bitter laugh. _I trusted him. He was family_. "But what is family nowadays any how?" Her "friends" were yelling at her, telling her to get back. From her waist band, she drew the dagger. The so-called special dagger. Mari was holding it so hard that a sharp facet of a diamond cut her. Her blood looked strange and dazzling on the gleaming metals.

The men stopped trying to keep her back. They didn't even yell. Her friends, she recognized some who escorted her to this battle ground, were staring with…what was it? Fear. She was so tired with people looking at her with fear. Her classmates, her aunts, and now these intimidating men were staring. Fucking cowards. She was just a girl.

The strangers, the Daybreakers she supposed, were also afraid. But they were also smart and killed the Night people who were still gawking.

Her boots made horrific suction sounds as they connected to the floor because both were covered in blood. She found her way to what was left of the basement. There were maybe five or six bodies surrounding him and he was having trouble with seventh. She was lovely but human, and therefore had no chance of seeing the light of day. Mari was going to fix that.

"Maria. Get out of here!" The girl turned to Mari with flashing green eyes and with her version of Mari's killing smile.

Without hardly any effort, she pushed the girl aside. Judging by the blows Carn had given her to the legs, it was easy for anybody to.

"Carn, it's Mari," she called softly. His eyes widened. She knew it was strange that she should be calling him anything other than Mr. Shamblepix. "Carn, you lied to me."

"I…"

"You lied to me. I trusted you like a father." She made him wince. Good, but not enough. Her voice was chiding, almost sweet if not for the warning in her eyes.

He was backing away now until he was against the wall, his eyes never leaving her hand with the knife. "I'm sorry." _Oh Carn_, she thought wistfully, _you sound like you mean it_. He heard her.

"I do mean it. I'm sorry honey. I am. But if I told you the truth you'd leave me. I didn't want you to leave me." His voice was on the edge of breaking down. Mari simply stared.

"What about Dorian?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.

He moved his eyes to her face from the floor. "I'm so sorry," he began as he moved toward her, arms open. She moved away and saw the hurt flash across his face.

"You're a good actor." Her voice was shaking. When was the last time she was this out of control? "You're a damn good actor. I hate you for that. I hate you so much for that and for everything you did." Why was she crying? This man was nothing but another liar in her life.

There was something in his eyes. She wouldn't let that distract her. "You know if you had told me I could have left, I wouldn't have. I would have stayed there with you, because you were my family. Do you always lie to family? I forget, you don't have one… due to what, trust issues? Nobody made a fool out of me until now. Until you Carn." Her amber eyes dimmed, until they were hard, cold opals.

"I won't let you do this to me, not after I worked to hard not to let any one do it to me before." _He must know what I want to do by now_, she thought distantly. _Why is he staying there?_ "Fight, do something. You're not doing a damn thing!" Mari's voice was desperate, and she felt like kicking him to draw a reaction.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. With startling reflexes for a man who looked so tired he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. His green eyes were still clear and shining, like the first day she met him.

"You know what?" she whispered with a laugh near his face. "I still love you." Mari had a little sad smile on her lips. "And for that, I'll make it quick." Her dagger had been poised near his heart and she brought it down swiftly, her stomach lurching at the feel of the point puncturing skin. She closed her eyes and didn't want to open them ever again.

~*~*~*~

July 28, 1999

"Have you ever thought about how weird it is that she's so short but her legs still manage to look so nice and long?" _Oh I do not like that voice_, Mari thought grouchily_._ It was waking her up. She never felt this deep sleep before and found the cottony atmosphere amazing. But somebody was ripping through the drowsy layers.

"Oh yeah, I look at girls' legs all the time," a female said. She sounded irritated and something else, something familiar. _Oh_, she thought with curiosity, _jealous_. Yes, she heard that around school too. Deciding she could never again reach that soft, fuzzy sleep unless somebody hit her on the head, she opened her eyes.

And immediately closed them. Since when was lamplight so bright? She tried again, blinking rapidly and soon shapes began to form, and she could see what was above her. It was a canopy bed, pale blue with hazy clouds stretching across it_. I don't own a canopy bed_, she thought, eyes narrowing. What kind of spoiled, pretty princess owned a canopy bed?

Mari sat up very quickly and then regretted it. "Stop it," she growled fiercely.

"Stop what?" A guy who was sitting at the end of the large room stood up. He had light brown hair and cheerful gray eyes.

"I wasn't talking to you," she snapped. "I was telling the room to stop spinning," she explained, and she was completely serious. It was more than spinning; it was toppling and twisting as if some giant baby was shaking and exploring it. "Give me something. Aspirin, prozac… just get me a pill." She plopped down on the bed again.

"We think that you don't need any more thing in you than you have now. What I mean is that we already gave you some stuff before to heal some of your wounds and it might react weird to aspirin or prozac," he told her gently. Mari weighed between coming up with a rude quip or sleeping again.

"Where am I?" she asked tiredly, swinging her feet to the side of the bed. Her feet didn't touch the ground and she stared at it for a second, trying to remember if she had four feet, or two when her vision betrayed her.

"In Elder Thierry's Mansion. Do you know who that is?" It was a pretty girl with black hair. She had a distinct mischievous aura about her, if not spiteful.

"Of course. He's one of the oldest made vampires. Made by Maya herself, he lives in Las Vegas now and usually hosts solstice and equinox parties in his mansion." She flicked off the information absentmindedly and saw she just answered her own question.

The black haired girl raised her eye brows. "That's right," she said slowly, "How did you know?"

"Mr. Shamble—I mean Carn taught me. Carn Lancin." It hurt her to say that, but she told herself it was because she was thirsty. Then she looked at the boy. "You're human." He nodded. "What are you in for?"

"I'm not in for anything. I'm here to help." He answered with a smile. The boy walked closer and held out a hand. "I'm Hugh Davis."

"Mari Tybal," she said automatically shaking hands with him briefly. "Why would an Elder need help from a human?" She paused for a long pause. "Is he…I mean does he…Circle Daybreak?" Lordy, the vampire would suffer painful death if the council found out. The girl sighed impatiently.

"Yes. He's the boss of it all. I'm Blaise Harman. You're here because you fainted." _Blaise doesn't like people who faint_, Mari observed. _Or maybe she just doesn't like competition…_ "You've been out four days." _My lucky number_, she thought miserably. And this was a Harman witch, a powerful Harman witch working with a human. The world suddenly became a stranger place than it was before.

Her stomach grumbled loudly. "I'm hungry." Hugh grinned and nodded.

"Well come this way, otherwise you'll get lost." Mari tried to return the smile but she didn't have the heart. On wobbly legs she followed Hugh down the hall to another hall and then to a room that did not look like a kitchen. But there was a secret passage behind what was painted to be a window and Hugh explained that it would be a faster way to get to the kitchen. From there she was led down a stair step, holding Hugh's hand in the dim light.

Then Hugh pushed through the wall and Mari was standing in a huge kitchen only fit for a four star restaurant. She sat on a stool by the counter while Hugh pushed the storage shelf back in place and went to the giant of refrigerator.

"Shut up!" Mari turned at the voice, and the following laugh which seemed to come a room away. Hugh smiled.

"That's the others. How about taking these brownies to the living room?" Mari was feeling like her old self again with the brownies and milk. But she wasn't sure which was better; groggy, obedient Mari or the cold, indifferent Mari. Neither was really an improvement.

"Whatever you want," she answered shortly. She saw Hugh raise his eyebrows at her tone. What did he expect? An instant bond of friendship? Brownies and milk wasn't the magic potion for that. If he had given her prozac, maybe…

"Well…okay then. Off to the living room it is." He took the plate of brownies and motioned for her to bring the two glasses of milk. Mari was suddenly self conscious at the prospect of a roomful of strangers. Her bloody boots were gone but she was still wearing the green dress, which still looked half decent. She brought a hand to her hair and Hugh turned around at the same time.

"Don't worry, you like great." The way he looked at her when he said it made her want to blush. But if she was going to be secure and self dependent again, she was going to stop becoming emotional. Impossible, yes, but so was the idea of vampires.

Hugh was still looking at her. "Um, okay. You don't look great," he joked, thinking his earlier comment was a cause of her sudden shyness. _He's just trying to help_, Mari told herself. Still she wouldn't meet his eyes, just kept staring at her socked feet.

Hugh opened the door and a flood of laughter greeted her. Mari observed the room she stepped into. Five arcades, two occupied. Five basket ball games you can find at Chuckee Cheezes. A big screen TV and a booming stereo system. Pool tables, ping pong tables, fooz tables, a dance floor, and computers… basically anything that a teenager could hope for in their dream house.

"This is a living room?" she asked and some of the better hearing teens turned towards her. The cute ones. They continued to stare at Hugh and Mari peered from the doorway.

"Well, Thierry likes his guests to be…entertained enough when they come over. To say the least." A tall boy walked to the stereo and turned it off. Hugh cleared his throat. He had not captured the attention of everybody yet.

"Hey shut up!" That was the same one who turned off the radio. Everybody turned to Hugh. Mari was determined to stay aloof.

"Um…our guest has finally woken up and she's fine…considering…Guys, this is Mari." Mari swept in the room, finally getting a clear view. Fifteen in all. There were two large windows and she guessed this was the second story. She wouldn't be able to make that long a jump… _Stop it_, she told herself, _you're turning into Batman or something. No, _her mind argued, _Batman could make that jump_. Then Mari felt ashamed of herself, being outwitted by her subconscious.

And they were still staring. "Hi." she said, grateful her voice didn't show that she was nervous under their survey. Instead she sounded…cold. _Well that's what you are_, she thought sternly. _And you're also going crazy; you're having conversations in your head._

There were a few mumbled greetings. Hugh led her to an open space on the couch and they settled their snacks on the pull out table in the back cushion. "Did I grow horns or something?" she asked Hugh. In a different voice she might have sounded nervous, friendly but the way she said it was the same as saying, "Don't you hate people who stare? So rude." For a second Mari hated herself. Only a second.

There was a blonde, elfin girl that gave a laugh. "You know we're not supposed to be here because it's so dangerous. They could send a big bomb and then the world's lost!" Maria looked up at her, and wondered how she managed to make the apocalypse sound so cheery. "But we couldn't wait to meet you. I'm Iliana Harman." The slight girl walked over and Mari stood up to shake hands with her. To her dismay, Mari was the shorter of the two.

"And I'm Jezebel Redfern. And this is Morgead Blackthorn. Tybal, huh? That's an interesting last name. Like Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet?" a red haired girl asked. Of course, beautiful, and her boyfriend equally so. She was sitting next to the dark haired boy who had captured every one's attention earlier.

"Yes. I suppose. That's my real last name. My adoptive last name is Yolken. That was Swedish. Do you think I'm Swedish? That gave me a clue." Mari hated sounding bitter, and also hated her bout of verbal diarrhea. But both were unavoidable.

"But it's Redfern to the Night World," a boy with golden eyes said shortly. "You _are_ a Redfern, aren't you? Did a blood tie ceremony with Hunter himself. You're a Redfern." He was being curt and tension filled the air as soon as he said it.

Mari wasn't going to be talked down to by any one. If he was attempting to make her feel bitterness, shame, or regret he was far too late. She met his gaze, something she saw startled him. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes I did. Hunter adopted me as a daughter, as if the psycho one wasn't enough. Redfern's a name we both own, isn't it?"

The girl beside him with auburn hair asked her, "How did you know?"

"Hunter was a chatter box. He told me about a some grandson who left him for a girl friend in the Dark Kingdom. All the little details. You gave him scars, Delos." Delos' body became taut. Mari could tell he didn't like the way she knew so much. But when she had the former head of the Night World Council throwing a pity party with her, Mari couldn't help but remember a few things. "Gave him scars on his face. He can't smile all the way without wincing just a little bit." And then Mari smiled. Now she knew which attitude was better. Being the ice queen was always enjoyable.

She faced Jezebel. "And of a great times five grand daughter who he pitied. He said that she was a half-breed, a freak. He made me imagine a monster. But he lied didn't he? Everybody tells lies and I was stupid enough to trust him." Mari had no idea where she was going with this, just telling what was on her mind. She supposed it saved time for those who wished to see her inner workings. In fact, she could feel just the smallest thing…

She shot a look at a vampire. "What is it?" she asked with sudden anger. "I'm telling what's on my mind, what do you need to know?" The vampire produced an infuriating smile.

"Just curious as to see if there's anything you're leaving out." He didn't erase his unnerving smile.

"Ask. It's bad to go where you shouldn't be," she warned with a savage grin. She noticed the girl he had an arm around stiffened at that. "What's your name?"

The girl answered for him. "I'm Rashel Jordan. This is—"

The vampire cut her off. "Quinn. Just Quinn. Former Redfern."

"Oh yes Quinn. I remember a Quinn Just Quinn," Mari said with a little grin. "The fire. He broke my lamp when he told that story." Quinn's smile decreased. "Why does it bother you that I know so much? You obviously know much about my life. Other wise Hugh here would have paid attention when I said my name. He didn't because he knew it already. And that's why those two gentle men," Mari gestured to the vampire and shape shifter who had played the arcade games, "were following me at the mall the day I was kidnapped. All the details."

Again there was an awkward silence; their fourth Wild Power was not the grateful girl they expected her to be. Mari gave a small bite to a brownie. _Good_, she thought with satisfaction. Then somebody else entered the room before there was another failed attempt at conversation. "I see everybody is here." All heads turned to see the newcomer.

"Lord Thierry." Mari said as she stood up with the rest. The vampire nodded. They settled back in their seats except the two who sat across from her. They stood to let Thierry and his infamous soul mate sit, assaulting the girl with the force of a double interrogation—or, at least, that's how she felt. Hunter told her he wasn't sure if Thierry's soul mate died again, there were just rumors of her existence.

"Hunter has told you about the prophecies?" This Elder went straight to the point. Mari liked that.

"Yes," she answered. Then she gave a tiny amused smile. "I'm supposed to be the bad one." Mari knew she had put too much pride in the statement, causing some worried glances from the Daybreakers.

"Maybe it's the blood tie with Hunter," a blonde, thoughtful looking boy asked. He was lounging with a muscular girl with long black hair, vaguely reminding Mari of waiting, jungle cats. "That's sort being one of with the dark, isn't it?" The suggestion was disgustingly optimistic. She, with a few of the other occupants, rolled her eyes.

"I think it has more depth than that Galen. I believe they mean the Final Battle."

"But how do you guys know it's me? You, Hunter, and everybody else has never seen me use any power what so ever. I could be a fluke." The Daybreakers exchanged knowing looks.

"Maria," Hannah began.

"It's Mari," she cut in sharply. "Nobody calls me Maria. Nobody," she repeated, teeth clenched. Hannah looked at her as if trying to understand something but then continued.

"Mari, when you…um…"

"Killed?" Mari gave a predatory smile that would have made Carn proud.

"Carn Lancin… you missed his heart." Mari stopped smiling. She made a surprised o shape with her mouth, but then closed it and took a deep breath.

"I told him it would be quick. Guess he thought I lied." Mari said in forced disinterest.

"Mari," a boy said. He had semi long blonde hair and looked…well the first that struck her was "lazy." But she learned never to make judgments on appearances. "Mari he did die quickly. Not because of the stake next to his heart. Because you were bleeding and you used you're power."

"But I didn't try…"

The boy shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Your emotions were so strong that unconsciously… Your anger, your hate—whatever you were feeling—took over that power and used it." He looked triumphant when he finished. Like a good little school boy who successfully recited a lesson.

Mari thought of Carn, her Mr. Shamblepix, dying because her anger was so strong. So strong because of what? Love or hate? She had envisioned him as a mummy before, but now all she could see is Carn's ashes.

"I want to go home." Wherever home was now. The castle had been the coziest place she had been in years. Home now was her aunt's lonely mansion. "I want to go home." Mari sounded childish, impatient. _But that's all you are_, that voice that she thought had gone away taunted now, _to them you're a child's mind that's to be shaped and molded to their will._

Dammit if you were are coming from a specific part of my mind I intend to have you cut out! There was no response to the threat. Stupid, witty, sarcastic subconscious.

She tilted her head to survey them all. They were paying attention to her, being nice to her. Because they didn't want her to go back to Hunter. To the Night World. They were just being cordial so they wouldn't have to worry about her going to their enemy. They didn't really want her. These people were humoring a child so that she wouldn't become angry. She didn't want it any more. People toying with her mind, her feelings so they could save their own necks. _I hate that. I want to go home now. These people are fake. They're lying. The whole world lies and I want to go home now, right NOW! _The thoughts came to her in a dizzying rush, getting stronger by the second.

"Whoa, there Nelly," a vampire laughed nervously. "I have no idea what you're thinking, but it's pretty strong. Surprisingly strong. I'm glad you're not bleeding right now." It was the vampire who followed her at the mall.

"Yeah, I might have done something I would have regretted, Trent." He was about to ask how she knew and she pointed at the arcade game. "When I came in you were filling in your name for the high records before you went back to the start screen. I like to notice little details, remember?"

"You can't go home," Thierry changed the subject, sensing another awkward pause. "Stay, at least for a while. From what we learned, Hunter's letter to your aunt said you might be moving to Las Vegas permanently. He had friends of yours pick up your things the day you were…rescued, if that's the word. All of your belongings are now in your room."

Mari looked at him in disbelief. "I don't have a room here. I could have a room at my aunt's mansion, I could tell her…" Mari didn't have anything truthful to tell her aunt, anything that would make sense. And her aunt already had distrust from the years of lies Mari had fed her. "I could tell her I changed my mind," she pointed out, her chin thrust out defiantly.

Quinn cut in. "How would you get there? Nobody here is going to drive you." Thierry gave him a look that clearly demanded silence.

"I'll call a cab," she said, almost yelling. Mari began to get warmer, and more desperate. She was sure this was how trapped animals felt like. Or at least how they felt in those stereotypical movies, where they were beset with warriors armed with spears. Mari was surrounded by Abercrombie and Fitch savages.

"But we're not going to let you out of the door." The lazy blonde-haired person said, going with Quinn's lead. "How are you going to manage that?"

"A number two pencil ought to do the trick," she answered menacingly, worrying a few vampires present.

"We don't want you to think you're a prisoner here," Thierry explained in a soothing voice.

"Your friends here are doing a damn good job about that," she snapped.

"Ash, Quinn, shut up," Jezebel said pleasantly. Both glared at her.

"If you think keeping me here against my will is going to get you another wild power, you need lessons in persuasion."

"Well they took you to a castle against your will and in two weeks you were getting adopted. We were just borrowing an idea. Be happy we got electricity here!" Delos yelled.

"Don't you dare raise you're voice to me! You're acting like I'm Benedict Arnold and I wasn't on any body's side to begin with." she erupted, making the prince's eyebrows shoot up. "Carn said that…" She paused remembering her favorite vampire's words. _Go back and wait to get picked up by the Daybreakers so they can brainwash you._ "Carn said a lot of things," she reminded herself, voice dropping from the roar she had earlier. Before they could say anymore, she stood up. "I'm not saying that I'll fight on your side when the time comes. I'm just staying here so you'll have your chance to tell me why I should. Will somebody please take me to my room?" Mari hoped that Ash and Quinn wouldn't feel triumphant at her decision.

Once she was settled back in the room she had first awoken in, she curled up on the huge bed and thought.

The dagger Carn gave her was gone, probably left back in the gore fill basement. She was in a mansion that she couldn't leave. Her aunt thought she had moved to Las Vegas, which in rough terms she did. The people here were trying to make her feel welcome, save the three men she had yelled at. Then again, it could be another act. Everybody had been a trained thespian so far…Carn, Hunter, Alastair, the men, and the men's leader, Valdis. Wait, Valdis had been the only one who said and did what he felt like towards her. It was only a small comfort.

There was nothing else to do. She was just going to have to adapt to this new place and new people. It couldn't be that hard.

~*~*~*~

July 28, 1999

Hunter had just killed Lily and was now planning his next move in the study. He would have sent somebody else to carry out the deed, but that wasn't as satisfying as seeing the surprise. It wasn't only for the pleasure, though there was floods of that, but because she was going to tell the council members about his existence and his failure.

Even as he began to think about him, Traces came into the room silently. "How goes my adopted daughter?"

"Living with Thierry in his Las Vegas mansion. We have no clue as to what is happening in the house. All four wild powers are in the house and it's too dangerous to actually try to attack. There are wards all over the house and under the house. Nobody can get in except daybreakers."

"That shows what you know." Hunter told him. Then he waved the spy away. Now he had to think because he had absolutely no idea what to do. And he wouldn't even let himself think about letting the Daybreakers have the girl. That would be sickening.

~*~*~*~

August 19, 1999

"Let's say one nice thing about the people next to you before we go to dinner." Mari rolled her eyes. She did _not_ like Rashel's friend.

"Point being, Daphne?" Morgead asked with a dismal sigh.

"I don't know many of you, so this way I'll learn what others think of you. Plus it will kill the time before dinner." Then she said the words that Mari hoped she wouldn't say. "Mari will start."

"Who said I was going to play this game any way? It's _stupid_," she snorted.

"What's the matter, Mari, suddenly speechless? If there's a word to describe you it would be never shuts up." Morgead grinned.

"Wait, was that your attempt at a joke? Why am I not surprised that nobody laughed, hmm I wonder…"

"They're all afraid you'll bite their head off and then play soccer with it," he replied easily.

"I enjoy volley ball better," she informed him coolly.

"I'll start," Iliana interrupted, for with Mari's endless supply of comebacks, the sparring would end around dawn. "Delos is dependable and Fayth always has answers. Delos's turn." _Here it goes_, Mari thought.

Delos mumbled, "Iliana is cheerful and makes everybody happy. And she knows how to make good pancakes. Iliana is really one of those people that you can go on and on about really…"

"Del, you're ruining it," Maggie complained.

"Oh yeah and Mari. Mari, um, Mari…Mari hasn't interrupted me once while I've been talking." Mari glared at his smiling face.

"My turn I suppose. Delos has successfully managed to walk _and_ talk at the same time. And Maggie is admirable for putting up with this excuse of a man." Maggie laughed and hastily covered her mouth when she saw Delos's face.

That was the end of the game however when Nilsson came to tell to bring it in the kitchen. Of course many of the Daybreakers didn't need the evening meal, but most joined the humans for the fun of it. It was chefs' night out and the groups that were scattered about the mansion were now gathering in the kitchen. Pandemonium ensued until Keller had ordered lines in front of the five refrigerators as to get their own makeshift meal.

Mari secretly loved it; the noise, the confusion, and the interaction. At her aunt's, in the castle, and especially her old home, nothing ever like this happened. The only flaw of the beautiful disorder was the fact she always had trouble as to who to sit with, considering she had stolen Blaise's station as resident bitch.

She saw Maggie wave her over to an island counter and pulled up a stool. In front of her, a certain vampire prince sat happily until the fourth wild power settled in her seat. "Tell me, Delos, are your eyes permanently hindered by that rolling effect, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Look, she started it," he said loudly, pointing an accusing finger at her. Maggie gave a look of dismay.

Mari pouted. "No, I didn't mommy, he started it. He pulled my hair." Mari was loud and proud of her toddler voice. Again Maggie laughed.

"I swear, you're the only one who would mock him like that, other than me," she said. "Come on guys get along for once. I'm tired of playing referee. Delos stop rolling your eyes in front of her and Mari stop…being yourself," she said jokingly.

"See if that happens, then pigs will start to fly," Delos pointed out, shaking a cold fry at Maggie. 

"We could always put you on a plane." Mari shot daggers at Delos. Then came eating time and Mari didn't have time to talk.

"Maggie, she's giving me the silent treatment." _That's not true, I'm just eating_, she spoke silently to him, downing her second chicken sandwich. Eating always took full concentration.

"You'd think you'd want that," Maggie answered with a full mouth. Delos reached over and wiped the mayonnaise from her lip. Mari continued eating, pretending not to notice.

"You know what Mari?" Another Delos insight, Mari sighed. "You have the expression of a statue. I'm not being mean, okay, just starting a conversation. Not many people can do this, even vampires, keeping that poker face all the time. It's like it's glued on and you're forever going to have that aloof, cold mask on." Mari continued eating, and wondered where the hell Delos learned conversation skills. Maggie punched him.

"You're not a good conversationalist, you know. Beside Mari can change her expression whenever she likes. It just takes a lot of emotion for her to do that." Mari nodded.

There was a loud "ahem." All boisterous teenagers turned to the double doors where Nilsson stood. Then he waited until the roar had quieted down. "Claire is here, Jezebel. And," he paused letting Claire move to her cousin. "We have a visitor." There were a few sniggers at that; Thierry's mansion was always full of visitors.

Mari wasn't paying attention, because it didn't matter to her who was here. Like Delos said, she was keeping the statue's expression steady.

"Mari," a soft voice said.

Calmly, she turned around. There must be dozens of Mary's or Mari's here, but she was just tired of fighting her curiosity.

She screamed. An ear piercing, glass-breaking scream. She stopped and then let out another. "Ohmygod," she panted, never losing her volume and unable to find anything else to say. Frantically, her head whipped about, staring from one confused face to another. Couldn't they see that he wasn't supposed to be here? Then the man took a step closer, making Mari scream again. But she couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop; she _had_ to get it out. A hand cupped her mouth from behind.

"Calm down," a harsh voice said from behind. "You're making me deaf." It was Morgead and he was holding her arms to the side. She bit into one of his fingers.

"You're carrying me," she said in the most normal voice she could manage, but apparently by Morgead's wince, she had shrieked. Mari's feet were inches from the ground.

"Who is he?" Morgead motioned the man in the doorway with a nod.

Mari wrenched herself from Morgead and stepped closer to the visitor. That shining deep gold hair, those usually mischievous and now sad, dark blue eyes… She stepped closer and touched his cheek, his perfect cool cheek. She knew it was because he was a vampire that he was so amazing, but she still looked at him as a friend she had known for years. Nothing spectacular…he was just…him. Then she rushed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh God, Dorian, I thought you were dead," she whispered into his shoulder. She kissed his shoulder and then his neck, the soft skin tensing under her lips as she did so. Stupid thing to do, really, but for some reason Mari believed that he might have left. And she would not let this vision leave before she gave him at least one treasured kiss. Mari could not help squeezing so hard, just to be sure he was there. 

He was real. She could feel his heart beat hammering against hers, his breath ruffling her hair. 

Oh god. He was _real_.

She felt him straighten and remembered with a smile that Dorian was a foot taller than she was. Her feet were in the air and she didn't care for the indignity of it. "Dorian, I thought you were dead," she whispered again, her awe filled eyes searching his face. Everything was right again. He carried her out of the kitchen and closed the doors.

"I know," he murmured in her hair. Mari had no idea what she was doing. She never even bothered to say hi to him when he was her only friend. And now she was practically dry humping in front of strangers. The chaos of prophecies would change a person, she guessed. "I know… I know."

"Dorian," she said again, running her hand through his silky hair. She missed him, every part of him. She wanted to remember every finger, every inch, and every strand of beautiful hair on his head. Her golden boy. She was placed back on the ground and was again reminded he was abnormally tall to her. His hand was softly caressing her cheek. And then his lips were on hers.

~*~*~*~

"Okay I think I heard a slap or a clap," Claire whispered to the people around her, who then whispered it to around them, and so on until Claire waved them to be quiet. "Now I hear footsteps… I think they're walking away."

"See? That's violence and we do not allow violence to run rampant through this mansion," Warren said. He'd been trying forever to come up with an excuse to get out of the kitchen and Iliana mistakenly admitted it was feasible.

The concept of sneaking up on the two was ruined when Ash yelled, "Coming through," and pushed the door open. They followed him to the entrance hall way, where the wild power and guest were shouting. Technically, the wild power was shouting. Mari shot a hand out to stop any speech from the crowd.

"What the hell was that? You come here, I hug you for all the heaven's sake…" Her tone suggested it was a monumental action. "… and you _kiss_ me? This is unacceptable, Dorian, _unacceptable_." She was past shouting, and had moved onto ranting and raving now.

"That's emotion," Maggie whispered to Delos.

Dorian looked toward the audience for any help then turned back to the small, hissing girl in front of him. None were really eager to lend it. "It was a greetings kiss, a hello kiss, a family kiss…" The males in the crowd shook their heads, having attempted and failed that explanation before.

"Dorian! There was tongue; don't you deny there was tongue. And nobody kisses their family with tongues, except for maybe in Alabama." She paused, thinking, and then continued with a new light in her eye. "And what the hell was in that drink you gave me?"

"You know I feel sorry for him. I mean, he kissed her. It's amazing he's not a crisp vampire or dying from the poison of her lips," Quinn said, clearly enjoying this outburst.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I bought that at the Donut Hut. You could ask anybody." He took a breath and then gave sideways glance at the crowd. "Listen can we take this Attack Dorian moment to some place private?" Mari followed his gaze.

"Oh, them? They're not important," she said impatiently and ignored the chorus of indignant words.

"Um Mari?" Trent stepped out. She gave a look that would have normally stopped him dead, but he was too absorbed by the situation to notice. "He did get a drink from the Donut Hut. We saw him." She turned back to Dorian as if he hadn't spoken.

"The kiss was…"she started again.

"Was totally unacceptable, highly unnecessary," he finished and looked to the crowd to explain, "she used to say that a lot to me." Then he turned back to Mari. "And I will never do it again." He looked sincerely apologetic until he drew a gleam in his eyes and whispered what everybody could here. "Unless you want me to."

For a moment they held their breath as Mari's eyes narrowed to almost impossibly thin slits. She pinched her mouth to say something but, surprisingly, let out a long breath. She smiled a mischievous smile and stepped closer to Dorian. "I think…"she said in a voice so throaty Jez could not help but roll her eyes. "that you need this, not just a kiss." She stepped closer to him so that their bodies brushed against each other with palpable electricity.

Her palm connected with his cheek before he knew what was coming.

"Ooh," the people let out and winced as she smacked him with enough force to knock his head aside. He moved his angry eyes from the onlookers and then to Mari, who was standing in front of him with her hand on her hips. There was an evil smile on her lips.

"That _hurt_! I thought you were going to kiss me!" Dorian was towering over the girl but she stood her ground, completely invulnerable to his threatening stance. He continued to rub his cheek.

"Mari." It was a deep, and slightly angry voice. She turned to meet the head of Circle Daybreak.

"You know, if you just came a few minutes earlier, I wouldn't have smacked him," she explained with wide, beguiling eyes. Thierry had to admit when she looked at him with wide amber eyes and protruding bottom lip she _looked_ sorry, but he knew that trusting Mari would be the same as trusting the "Bad Seed."

"Mari," he repeated but again she cut him off, this time with rushed excuses.

"Dorian started it. He assaulted me. In my opinion, he shouldn't be here, causing sexual attacks that leave the victim _severely_ traumatized. We should kill him." Her voice began as childish and ended violently. Dorian simply glared back.

For a second, Thierry looked at Dorian and the boy looked back. And then one blinked as did the other. A nod of the head, a wordless grimace, and various facial gestures ensued. It took quite some time of this exciting exchange before Mari realized what they were doing. "Oh, stop that! I hate it when you guys do that! Talk out loud."

Dorian complied, out of fear or the hopes of getting lucky that night. "I got pretty banged up after they took her. This lady found me and brought me to a hospital. Of course, I left before they could actually treat me and went to a friend. He couldn't take care of me, but I healed and hid for a while. Then I went to find this little…_thing_." He pointed at Mari with disgust. She slapped his hand away.

"Is there any possibility of gluing her arms to her body?"

"Do you want to join Circle Daybreak?" Mari knew if Dorian refused Thierry's offer they'd have to kill him. _Oh please say no, please oh please say no…_

"Well, I'm not fond of being on the Night World's side when you blow them to bits. Sure I'm in," he shrugged.

"That's the spirit," Mari said impassively. She couldn't believe that he was in the club like that. She thought there'd be hazing or other humiliating events.

"How do you know we could trust him?" Rashel asked.

"Yeah!" Mari piped up.

"We don't. If he is a traitor, he'll die. No questions asked. And shouldn't you be eating dinner?" Muttering daybreakers left for the kitchen.

"I want to share Mari's room," Dorian said brightly, evidently forgetting the violent incident. Mari punched him in the arm, but he expected it. She rubbed her knuckles, silently cursing Dorian and his surprisingly hard biceps.

Thierry looked uncomfortable for a moment and told them, "We'll discuss this later."

After dinner, Mari decided to talk to Dorian in her room. To her annoyance, her fellow daybreakers gave a suggestive "ooooh" as they left the room and giggled like children when she slammed the door.

"I think you have an ulterior motive," she announced as soon as the door was shut. Mari knew nobody would dare to listen at her bed room door; she didn't believe the residents were that suicidal.

Dorian regarded her with alarm. "Well, why don't you tell me how you really feel?"

"Isn't it unusual, Dorian, that you suddenly show up after I go to 'wrong' side?" She quoted with her fingers to emphasize. "And the fact you bought the drink at the Donut Hut is irrelevant because you could have tainted it with something afterwards."

"But I gave you the drink after you started coughing. ' After' being the key word there."

Mari paced the room, rubbing her chin while she thought. "True, therefore you couldn't have drugged me, _but_ you could have inserted thoughts of thirst into my mind to make me drink it. Do you deny it?" she drilled. _If I wasn't a wild power, I'd be a lawyer_, she thought.

"I do not deny that the directing thoughts is a possible plan, but I do deny that I ever did so with you. How could you say that? I couldn't have even thought of that on my own." He said plopping face down on her bed.

Mari hated it when his voice became equal to a spoiled three year old's. "You weren't the brightest one in the crayon box," she confessed. "But why are you here now? When I was in the castle, you didn't come to save me. Maybe because you were a back up plan, just in case the first one back fired?"

"You expected me to come rescue you? Me and my one man army, yeah that would be smart."

"You could have infiltrated the castle by pretending to be one of the guards, saying you were sent after your former was getting too soft on me. Then when you gain their trust, you would call for back up and become the hero. But you didn't. Did you even think about a plan?" Dorian was still face down on her pillow and his voice was muffled.

Angry, Mari pulled him off the pillow and hit him in the head with it. "Now I'll have to burn this."

"Mari," he sighed. "I swear to you, I am not under cover for the Night World. And as for that Mission Impossible daydream, did you really expect me to come up with that when I'm lying in bed? Bruised and battered, incapable of feeding myself, much less sweeping you off of your feet to safety?" There was fatigue, disbelief, and mock self pity in his voice.

Mari hesitated in her questioning. "What, you don't believe me?" he asked, but knew the answer.

"Look," he ordered. He took off his shirt. Mari was about to fire protests but stopped. His chest, his flat stomach…covered in scars. Black or dark red, some the length of her hand, another slashing across his chest. Mari moved closer and saw that the large, dried gash started from the top from the right shoulder and ended at his left hip, two inches wide. His left shoulder was covered with one large bruise, the outer portion a vibrant blue and the inside splotched with violet. It was, to say the least, a bad boo-boo. Under the map of colors, his bones were at an odd angle.

Dorian wasn't over and put up both hands, and pressed palm to palm. Mari saw that the all the left fingers were a just a few centimeters shorter than the right, the tips strangely flat. "Bastards cut them off. Good thing I'm a righty, huh?"

Mari did not say anything. No words came to mind as her features contorted with shame. And to think! She had been accusing him of betraying her when he had been undergoing tremendous torture!

"Is there anything else?" The miserable words were distorted by the hands still on his face.

She drew her name on the carpet with her foot. There was a knot in her throat and she swallowed. "You know there are witches here to fix those, better than the your natural way." she said in a semi sorry voice. Maybe not the best apology in the world, but by the smile she saw through his fingers, she could tell he accepted that that was all he was going to get.

~*~*~*~

August 20 through September 8 1999 (picnic being on September 8)

After having his mind inspected by all the vampires in the mansion, Dorian continued his pursuit of Mari, who in turn continued to politely ignore him. Each time he asked her out, wherever "out" would be, she gave a little smile and remind him of their friendship and the consequences of a tryst. But each time he felt like he gained a little ground, winning her heart little by little. He finally took her on a date, without informing her of course. Dorian slyly, or so he thought, told her that there was a coyote prowling Thierry's grounds and he wanted to show her where he usually slept at night. And under the silver moon, he led her to a picnic for two, complete with cold chicken sandwiches, champagne jello, and two root beers.

Mari didn't want to tell him that Lupe reported the missing items and that "the retarded, resurrected, Ken doll's been sneaking off into the backyard." But she did tell him that he was amazingly thoughtful and that he made her happy. It wasn't much, but again that was all he was going to get. That and a long kiss good night.

~*~*~*~

September 10, 1999

"Hey, how about a little time off for good behavior?" he pleaded, sitting on the edge of the chair. Mari was sitting next to him and hid her smile by drinking her coffee. They were sitting with Hannah and Thierry in the study during the early morning hours.

"I told you that you could go outside, but in Las Vegas? Dorian, that's like hanging a mouse over a tiger. Any body could get her." Hannah sounded like a mother. Mari closed and then rolled her eyes, ensuring that the Old Soul would not be offended.

"I must admit, Dorian, you have been good. I've even heard Mari singing sometimes," Thierry said, smiling at her. Mari knew she hadn't done anything of the sort, but she blushed any way. In fact there was no apparent change in Mari; she was still the ill-tempered, sharp tongued girl, never pausing to give insults. Thierry was the only one observant enough to spy that Mari was happy now. She had a somebody, like her room mates.

"Yeah, I've been an angel. Let me out, and I don't mean on missions, I mean shopping at malls with my girl. I'm tired of this mansion," Dorian whined. Mari pulled and bent her knees into her shirt and laid her head on them. She decided to stay out of this until Dorian was done.

"We won't go to Las Vegas. We'll go past Las Vegas to another little town mall," he offered brightly. Mari scooted closer to him. It was considerate of him, to try to bust her out of the bird cage like this. She hadn't even asked it of him.

"We'll discuss this and then tell you later today," Thierry said sternly. Mari jumped up.

"Can I have some money? I mean we are going today aren't we?" She returned Thierry's smile. He nodded and she left the room with Dorian.

As soon as they were out, she pulled Dorian close and kissed him. It felt so good to have a friend again, except this with pleasant benefits. He pressed her back against the wall and slid his hands down her back. Mari sighed against his mouth, sometimes he was too close, presuming too much. Weeks earlier, she would have never thought she was going to end up kissing Dorian. But ever since he came, he had been like her own personal cheerleading squad, backing her up in fights and applauding her every move. But he had held his own when it came to their own little squabbles. Dorian had more than charm, he had stubbornness, ignorant thoughts, and a black and white point of view, almost everything that Mari had, with the exception of lack of knowledge.

"Mari and Dorian kissing in the hall and she has no pants on. Now what could this mean?" Mari broke away from Dorian and scowled at the intruders.

"Hello," Thea said. The couple had arrived last week and Mari forgot that their room was on this floor.

"We'll be leaving now, Eric," Dorian said affably and drew an arm around Mari's waist, drawing her away.

She resisted. "I do to have pants on. Well, shorts." She pulled up her shirt high enough to show them. "It's just a big shirt." Eric smiled, with mock suspicion. She let Dorian tug her to her room.

"I have to change." He shrugged.

"It's about four am. You got plenty of time." She nodded but rummaged through her closet any way. He settled on her bed. "Hey Mari?"

"Huh?"

"How come you don't like to be called Maria? I think it's a nice name." He picked up a note pad from her night stand and began to doodle.

"Just because," she responded lightly. She crawled across the bed and wrapped his arm around her waist. Mari saw that he was trying to draw a puppy, but it was turning out like a rabid mouse.

"What do you mean, just because? You hate it when people call you Maria. You hate that name with a passion."

Mari played absently with his pajama sleeve. She hadn't known it would be possible for somebody with purple puppy covered pajamas to look sexy, but Dorian managed quite well. "I don't hate it," she retorted.

"Come on," he whined. "Wait, does this have anything to do with family? Cuz I know how you hate to talk about that." _Oh_, she thought girlishly, _he sounds so sensitive_.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Um, well it's like Carol…"

"Who's Carol?"

"The mother figure," she answered coldly. Then she continued. "She claimed I had an awful attitude when I was a child. Carol told me I had three main personalities; Mari, Maria, and Princess. Mari when I was lethargic and malevolent, Maria was when I was everything a naughty little girl would be, and I became Princess when I worked my childish charm, equivalent to that of the soap opera evil twins, to get what I wanted. She would say that I always got what I wanted, always. And well after the funeral, everybody kept calling me Mari. I didn't see a need to correct them."

Dorian was silent for a minute, still drawing. "How do you know she's not your mother?"

Mari sighed dramatically. "Dorian, honey, have you ever seen my so called family pictures? Have you seen my aunt? They're all blonde, pale skinned, and sky blue eyes. It's been like that for generations and then they supposedly had me. Tell me, do I bear any resemblance to anybody? I didn't think so."

"You need to stop being bitter." He patted her belly like one petted a cat. She sighed again and leaned against him. _If that was possible_, she thought wistfully.

"Did you know that Tybal means princess? Coincidental, huh?" he asked, trying to draw a car.

"How did you know?" she asked, taking the pad away from him and correcting the "puppy" and the bunny.

"I was going to look up the Romeo and Juliet characters for a quick and desperate attempt of last minute studying on line and then accidentally went to a baby names site. It was one of the search results."

"You're funny," she smiled.

"And you're smart," he replied.

"You're smart too. I don't see why you underestimate yourself like that. You have untried potential." There, now the bunny was actually cute.

He laughed softly and Mari felt his breath ruffle her hair. "You're so sweet, Mari, even if you won't admit it." Mari felt him shift so he could stretch out his legs. "You know I'm really, really, _really_ happy that I'm with you, Mari." Mari turned to face him, but Dorian was looking down at his hands.

"Yes, I believe you," she said slowly. His strange behavior made her some what reluctant to encourage him.

"I'm really happy," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "And…I don't know what else. Did you know that I had a crush on you since I met you?" Mari squirmed uncomfortably. The days before were not normally discussed, and for good reason.

"Well, you always said silly stuff, but then again you always had a girlfriend in hand."

Dorian was twisting his hands now and stammered, "Yeah, but…but, they didn't matter. You're this person to me. I mean, not just a person, you know, not just anybody, but you're like…I don't know. I like you a lot, Mari. A whole lot. It's weird you know? Well, I just thought that I'd say that, um..."

Mari stopped the frantic motion of his hands, and held one. He looked up and smiled. "I love you." Mari felt her reassuring smile freeze into shock, unable to stop it. Love? Good Lord, _love_? Mari thought, panicked. She was just now getting used to the fact that they kissed and he already _loved_ her?

"I know that it's strange for you, I mean I've been loving you since the eighth grade, and you just started liking me, or lusting whatever verb you prefer," Mari gave a tiny smile; Dorian was trying to be his old self again.

"You know this is a huge bomb to drop on me," Mari said gently. _On the atomic level! _Her mind screamed.She wasn't sure whether to believe him. Of course she had no doubt that he truthful, for trust was one of the most important things in a relationship. She just wasn't sure if he knew if it was real love.

"I know," he said, giving a face of regret. "I shouldn't have said anything. This was the wrong time, and I did it so stupidly. I wasn't even remotely romantic, was I?"

"That's okay," she said, easing off him. She felt cold without Dorian's warm body cushioning her, but a shower would fix that.

"You know it's going to take a while for me to get perfect for our little date today. You're going to have to go," she said, shooing him away from her bed.

"You're already perfect," he whispered before he kissed her and walked down the hall. Mari leaned against the wall and watched him retreat, still staring even as he went up a floor to his room. Well, the "friends with benefits" label just flew out the window. The sun was beginning to peek through the window at the end of the hall when a voice interrupted her peaceful moment.

"Yup, those walls get more interesting by the day." Ugh, Quinn. Talk about ruining perfect Kodak moments. Before he could say more, Mari went in her room and slammed the door in his face. Time to get dressed.

Mari thought about Dorian while she showered. She thought about when she first met him during the first day of school assembly, and when she dressed she thought of how many girlfriends he dumped. Right away she knew that Dorian wasn't her soul mate. Not by her acquaintances accounts any way. There wasn't any electrifying connections, silver threads, no involuntary visits to the mind, no pink hazes, nothing really. But there were times when she would feel a flutter in her stomach when she saw him, and her heart beat faster than thought possible. There was only a minuscule percentage of the world's population that actually found their soul mates and, lucky for her, that percentage lived in Thierry's mansion. That was fine, because Dorian was enough.

Mari thought about her resolution, the one she created after Carn. _Don't let anyone get close so they wouldn't hurt you_. Try as she might, she couldn't think of any exceptions this case had. She was breaking what she swore to herself, and this was another risk. But didn't everybody say that love was full of risks? Mari disregarded her oath. If she didn't risk everything now, she'd never forgive herself for the rest of her life. She would end up always thinking _What if?_

~*~*~*~

Later on that day…

Valerian Stillman was having trouble looking out for potential kidnappers when Mari walked in her deliciously snug jeans. He had even more trouble when Dorian's hand threatened to block his view of her…back pockets. Not wanting to repeat the faux pas committed months ago, there were thirty daybreakers scattered around the mall and thirty outside. Val sighed, for he hadn't expected to be working the minute he stepped off the plane to see Jez. It was going to be a rotten vacation. He tried to get comfortable in the food court chair. Sometimes, things were just too small and he felt he was too big. He wished Thistle was here, so she could balance things; Val was too big and she was too small. Val shook himself and returned his attention to the girl.

Mari was blissfully unaware that they were being monitored by thirty people. Dorian knew it wasn't just the regular four and didn't want to ruin her fun. Personally, Val the whole mission was stupid. An amazingly stupid mission. Here the gorgeous brat risks the safety of her life, of the world, for an outing with Mr. Perfect. She was just so…selfish. Maybe that was kind compared to what Warren was saying about her.

Dorian was now hugging the girl from behind and leaning against a pillar. He whispered something that Val could have listened to if he wanted to, but that would be wrong. It was their date and nobody should intrude. Mari laughed. _Now_ he listened.

"And then your aunt hung up on me and the next thing I knew, she was at my house, shouting accusations and checking the closets and bathrooms for you. If you had seen how scared the maids were, you would have just died. And your aunt was trying to hit me, but I kept dodging her until I fell over laughing." By this time they were both cracking up.

Val didn't find it funny. He remembered when Jez left so suddenly like that and how everybody was worried. Her aunt must have been desperately panicked when she heard Mari had moved without a word. Nineteen was old enough, but it was still so sudden. He'd have to check how she was doing whenever he had free time. Then he stopped himself. Sometimes Val thought this whole Daybreak business was changing him too much.

He withdrew his senses and scanned the area. There were a few Night World people, but they puzzled why there were so many of their kind at the small town mall on a Wednesday. Maybe there was more in the parking lot. He listened again.

"He keeps on staring," he whispered, and Mari jerked her head away because his breath was tickling her.

"Hello, it's his job." _Yeah, it's my job,_ he thought indignantly.

"Let's go on the merry go round," he suggested, propelling her towards the kid filled ride. Val rolled his eyes.

"You are not going to get me on that thing. We can't even fit." But they were already in line.

"I know for a fact that you can fit. I could stand beside you." He saw that Mari relented and soon she was on a tiger, giggling like the children surrounding her, with Dorian beside her.

"Isn't it a very touching picture of true love?" Hugh asked cheerfully, sitting in front of him.

"Very," he said dully and shifted to face him. He hadn't like Hugh at first but now, after knowing him for months…nope he still didn't like him. The Old Soul was just too happy.

"So where is the happy couple now?" Hugh asked.

Val made a vague gesture behind him. "On the merry go round." Hugh peered over the vampire's shoulder.

"Where?"

"Over there," he said impatiently. Hugh shook his head and Val turned around. It didn't matter to him, there was another twenty something others watching her. It's not like they would lose her.

~*~*~*~

"That was fun," Mari said as they drove away in his mustang. "But why did we leave early?"

"Mari, it was getting claustrophobic in there. I felt like a lab rat." He explained easily. She leaned against him. They had been driving around the town, which seemed surprisingly old fashioned around town square. "Feel just driving in circles? I do. We could look at the same stores all day."

Mari didn't feel like riding around the same block for hours. "Well, let's take a walk around. How many are monitoring us now?"

Dorian helped her out of the car and looked around casually. "Ten. Guess they didn't feel like reporting our exit to the others. That's okay; it's better than a million." He took her hand and they began to walk around idly. An elderly couple passed by them and the man nodded at Dorian with a smile.

"Oh, I think that's adorable," Mari whispered leaning her head against his arm. She couldn't quite reach his shoulder. "They stayed together all those years."

"I think that old man thinks we're married or something," he said. He let go of her hand and rested his arm on her shoulder. It was heavy as hell on her dainty bones, but Mari accepted it with a loving smile.

"That's adorable too," she added. She wanted to say it had been a perfect day, but she was afraid that might jinx it. Dorian stopped her to stand in front of a wedding and tuxedo store.

"You know what?" he asked softly. "It's been a perfect day. Being with you and everything and getting out of that stuffy old mansion. I haven't felt this good in months."

So much for that thought, she thought. "Let's go in here." She pointed to a little restaurant called the "Cactus Rose". It looked full, but a hostess approached them and advertised one last available table.

"Should we really stay here?" Dorian asked when they settled in to their chairs. It was charmingly trite. There was a red checkered table cloth, a drippy candle and the dim lighting that came with amateur but romantic musicians. "Your body guards won't be able to watch us. There's no room and I think they're outside." Mari shrugged.

"That's their problem." Dorian reached over the table and held her hand. A nearly imperceptible frown curved Mari's lips at the action.

"Listen," he began roughly. "What I said this morning…well I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's not like I didn't mean it, I _did_ mean it, and it's just that it was… too soon, right? I didn't mean to upset you like that." Mari stared at their entwined hands, at how tiny her hand fit perfectly into his large rough yet gentle one.

Mari hesitated, unsure how to answer without hurting his feelings. In truth, she didn't love him, but she suspected she was very near in doing so. With a bright, false smile, she said, "Oh that didn't upset me. I was just shocked. It was strange that you loved me. I used to think you just loved the mirror. We make an odd pair don't we?" Dorian nodded with a smile. "Let's just eat okay?" she suggested nervously. Even though the restaurant looked isolated from the world, they were still in public.

~*~*~*~

Other side of town…

Keller tried to shout Nissa to contact the rest of the team, but the vampire holding her was stopping all air. She stood up to throw him off, then twisted her foot around his, and tripped him so that he fell on his back. She grabbed the knife he was holding while he was still down, but the vampire kicked it out of her hand from the floor. During the split second he jumped up, she shifted into a panther before he blink.

She knew who she was fighting, she should after all those hours of study at the mansion. This was the silver haired vampire, Alastair, the son of Relund Orin, who had the third seat on the council. Killing him would bring even more fear into the Night World heart. If he didn't kill her first.

This is what you get for investigating without alerting the other forty Daybreakers to help you, she told herself viscously. They were in the deserted part of the small town, where once bustling factories were left to rot.

Keller bunched her muscles and sprang, knocking him down again. Adrenaline was more than singing in her veins, it was like she could taste it. The vampire's head banged against a wooden plank on the floor and for a moment he lost his control. _Thank Goddess for old abandoned factories and their hazardous, scattered weapons._

With a powerful paw, she slammed his head back into the plank and bit into his neck. Before she could do any serious damage he pushed her off and stood over her. She shifted into her human form to meet his eye. She had no idea where the others were, probably scattered around the factory.

"You know," the vampire said, "we had her first. Then you stole what we rightfully kidnapped."

"I have a feeling that you didn't come here to chat." Keller answered curtly. She didn't feel like a witty, sarcastic conversation so she kneeled, grabbed the wooden plank, which was now conveniently sharp. The vampire whirled at the same time to get the knife and they faced each other. He lunged first.

Completely unprofessional, Keller thought with a twinge of disappointment. She had been expecting a good fight. She sidestepped easily and, since she couldn't get an open shot at his heart, whacked the plank down on his back and then she hit him at the back of his head, making it snap forward. She grabbed the boy's shoulder's and threw him against the wall. He doubled over and then stabbed her calf of her left leg.

Keller hissed in pain and kicked him in the chest with her good leg only to realize it was a mistake. He grabbed her foot and yanked it toward him, making her fall flat on her back. He didn't waste any time to triumph and flipped the knife so that he had a stabbing position. He lunged again, and this time it mattered.

Keller felt the air move around her as she stopped the blade, which was scant inches away from her chest, by pushing him up and throwing him with all her might to the other side of the room. She didn't realize how much strength she had used until Alastair flew through the weak wall and stumble down a flight of rotting stairs. It took him a few seconds to steady himself.

They were seconds that Keller took full advantage of. Instead of pouncing on him, she threw a large piece of wood she broke off from the floor. Not to kill him, not yet, because that required more precision and concentration that Keller had the energy for. It was enough to distract him as she jumped after him and kicked him to finish his trip to the bottom of the steps, ignoring the screaming pain in her left leg. She was losing too much blood to continue for much longer. He would have to die soon.

Unfortunately, the dead didn't stay down. As soon she landed from her jump after him and moved towards him, she realized that he was playing possum. With his eyes still closed, he rolled to the side and yanked at her injured foot, and forced her to the ground.

Keller's headed met the cement floor with a resounding thud. Through the short waves of dizziness, she saw Alastair move towards her, brandishing his wooden weapon dangerously.

Just as he reached her, his eyes rolled back and a mummy fell on her. Breathing heavily, she felt Galen before she saw him.

"Where's Mari?" she asked, lifting a hand for help. Galen didn't just help her up, he carried her.

"She's still with Dorian," he said leaving the room. Keller let him carry her, because she didn't feel like walking any way. They met Winnie on the bottom floor, who raised an eyebrow when she saw Galen with an armful of Keller.

"Nissa said that Dorian and Mari maybe heading near here." Keller breathed a sigh of relief. Dorian wouldn't let anything harm her.

"Boss, that isn't a good thing," Nissa said standing in the door way.

~*~*~*~

Mari coughed again. She felt Dorian's arm on her shoulders.

"Mari, are you okay?" _Mari are you okay? _That's what he asked before…

"Fine, must have been the cherry pie," she answered. "Are we touring the city like you wanted?" Dorian smiled and nodded cheerfully.

"But there's not much to see now. We passed the colonial town square, the museum about desert animals, and the grave site of the founder of this lovely town. Now let's take a look to the factories spurned by the Depression, shall we?" Dorian had taken the dreary, humdrum voice of a tour leader and Mari laughed. He parked the car in front a huge building that seemed to teeter precariously on its unstable foundation. "It looks dangerous," he said and looked around. "Nobody around Mari. Let's go in."

Mari rolled her eyes. The missions and danger of Circle Daybreak had given him a James Bond attitude to add to his adventurous stupidity. "Walk in so that it could collapse over our heads? I don't think so." Dorian made an unintelligible noise and looked at Mari with pleading eyes. Those lovable, begging, dangerous, deep ocean blue eyes. "Five minutes," she sighed and he let him pull her through the hole in the wall where the double doors should have been.

There was only about a foot long square of light from the door way and the rest was darkness. "Dorian how do you know so much about this town? I don't even know the name."

She imagined that Dorian must have shrugged. "It's Millington Hills. And well, when I said that we didn't have to go to Las Vegas, just a small town, I meant it. I don't go say things I don't think about first. And after careful deliberation I found this quaint little place that would be perfect for an outing. For you and me." _That's sweet_, Mari thought, and she felt him hug her from behind.

"This isn't the most romantic place in the world, but at least we could be alone," he commented, seeing things she couldn't in the dark. She shoved him playfully.

"You and your romantic notions. Not everything has to be movie perfect, you know. The people make it romantic," she admonished. He kissed her cheek, his lips feeling weightless against her skin. She felt light headed and pleasantly content. Lately, Dorian always had that effect.

Tires screeched outside.

"It's been fun, Mari," he whispered in a taunting voice and she never had a chance to respond.

~*~*~*~

The night of September 10, 1999

"What the hell did you do to her?" _The man who's talking must be awfully mad_, Mari thought sleepily. _My butt's getting too cold_, she thought again, growing more awake.

"Nothing." That voice made her want to open her eyes, but it was taking an enormous effort to stay conscious. She felt as if she wasn't in her body, but deep, deep inside of her head, where it was warm and silent. It was the same fluffy place she had been when she first woke up at Thierry's Mansion.

Thierry's Mansion.

Circle Daybreak.

Dorian.

She opened her eyes and found she still couldn't see. After a burst of panic she took a deep breath and realized that it was dark, the reason of her blindness. And the men were still talking.

"Do you think I'm blind? The girl's half dead, you jackass! We need her alive, or do you need a dictionary? Alive, you simple minded idiot, means..." That one sounded very familiar, like someone she used to hate.

"I'm a jackass?" the nonchalant voice retorted in surprise. He continued. "You seem passionately involved with the girl, oh my mistake, the vermin. She's lower than us, so why should I treat her with care? Being gentle to that thing over there like being loving to a cockroach. Worse. A smart ass cockroach."

"I have my orders, boy. You jeopardize this mission and I'll kill you personally and slowly, you moron. Get her a blanket or something, she'll die in these temperatures."

"Don't order me around, _boy_," the voice suddenly became sophomoric and he copied the other man's tone. "You're not the leader here."

"Neither are you."

"Who made it possible? Who did most of the work? Who beat himself up just to get into the mansion? _I_ did. Don't tell me what to do after I worked my ass off. Now you go get her a blanket because I won't. And if you don't the little bitch will probably get sick. We wouldn't want that would we?" he sneered.

"Don't hurt her while I'm gone," he demanded sternly. "Or you'll have me to deal with."

"I'll be polishing my dueling pistols while I wait," the second man taunted as the first stalked away.

Mari heard footsteps fade away and then she was left alone with the blur of Dorian.

"Did you enjoy the show?" the stranger before her observed with a lip curled in disgust.

Mari couldn't believe it. No, she could, but she didn't want to. She let him in her safely guarded heart and he betrayed her, lied to her and killed her. Another part of her died, this time slowly and painfully.

"No, nor the one you've been putting on," she rasped out. She wanted to cry so much it was suffocating to hold the tears in. Her faced was scrunched up, trying to keep the tears from bubbling over. God, the man she almost loved was just using her. People were always using others, but she never expected her friend of five years and the only love of her life to stab her in the back.

Not in the back; right in front of her, she was just pathetically blind.

She couldn't see him but felt his frosty hand on her neck. His hands used to be so warm and comforting. "Mari, this is where your main fault is. You never know when to shut up." Dorian sighed in irritation. "You yap-yap-yap at every chance. I hate it when you talk. 'You have untried potential,'" he quoted with a small laugh. "I desperately wanted to staple your mouth shut then. This is your problem, your vocal cords. Your voice box. Do you think if I cut it out, I would fix the problem?" Mari tried to move but her hands were tied, not only with ropes but also with chains. She stopped squirming when she felt something like a needle pierce deeply in the center of her neck. Slowly, torturously slow, it was drawn down until it met the hollow of her throat. Air came in rough and stinging gasps.

"You can't see it, Mari." A tinge of insanity tainted his smooth, honeyed voice. "But it looks beautiful, the scarlet blood on your slender, copper neck. It hurts a bit, doesn't it?" His voice was whispering, near her face. Abruptly, he stood up. "Your family wasn't tanned, Mari."

"I'm aware of that," she choked out. He was so fast she only felt the pain after her head was turned to the side from the slap. When she faced him again, his shadow appeared as if he hadn't moved. He did move then, to punch through the brittle wall, moonlight spilling in the room.

"Didn't I say I hated it when you talked?" He looked around with an arrogant smile on his lips. Lips she used to kiss willingly, so lovingly. "Well, is this romantic enough? Moonlight, so bright that you could see everything. What was I talking about? Oh yes your family. Your pitiful, human family. But they weren't really your family were they? They're fortunate enough not to be related to you." He held up her chin in a bone breaking grip. "Look at me—oh you're crying. Do you think I'll be sympathetic now?"

"No, no," she whispered. He slapped her again. She wanted to do something, call for help, and hurt the stranger. Because he _was_ a stranger. The Dorian she loved was wonderful, and funny and he would never, ever hurt her. She didn't know this man any more. "I want Dorian back," she requested quietly. He let her head drop back to its former position, her chin becoming stained with her blood. She didn't mind the slaps any more, because it didn't hurt. What did hurt was the _fact_ of who was slapping her. Who was insulting her, who was making her ache with every sentence, every sickening word out of his mouth. It was growing, the dull ache, clouding over her mind.

"I _am_ Dorian. The Dorian you knew was a cover, a façade. But me, I'm real and I never loved you. No one ever loved you and no one ever will." She checked a whimper, for she always believed to be a horrible sound. "Do you want to know my last name? It's not Goldtooth, like you think. It's Lancin. Does that sound familiar, honey? Lancin?"

"Carn," she said involuntarily. Oh God, everything was a lie, moreso than ever before. She knew everything had it's own illusion…_but Jesus, do the illusions have to be cruelly connected? Everything was a lie_. But if the truth hurt this much then she would gladly live in a life surrounded by illusions.

"Do want some more bitter pills to swallow? I know it's hurting you, but at least you won't live in that stupid fantasy any more. Brace yourself, darling. I knew who your mother was. Do you want to know who she was?" His voice was bright and eager. Mari wanted to stop him but she couldn't bring herself to even move her head.

"She was a whore. Your father was a customer. And do you want to know why you're not pale like Carol? Your father was Asian and Italian, I forget what type Asian. Actually, your mother forgot. I probed her memory a bit before I tore out her eyes and stabbed her heart." He cocked his head curiously. "Are you listening to me?"

Mari willed herself to stop crying, to stop the river of tears flooding down her cheeks. She hadn't wept in so long that it seemed like her body was trying to get rid of all the tears that she dammed years before. All her life she lived a story, a chimera.

"Parents cause a lot of emotional baggage don't they? Your mother, she called herself Candy Lips, but her real name was Gwendolyn Marks. Your father, Teddi Tybal Something. My mother, who jumps the bones of anything that breathes and then moves on to marry richer man. My father, a liar and a hero to the Night World, Carn Lancin. Parents just don't understand how to fully take care of their children do they? Ah, parents," he sighed and sat Indian style in front of her and propped his head up by his arm.

"Did you know what I found after you killed my father? This, isn't it pretty?" Dorian held up a beautiful dagger. Three coils of silver, wood, and iron braided together and the needle point was dripping with her blood.

This is my chance, she thought feebly. She could use her powers and stop him, and then she could escape. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to hurt him, the man she almost loved. There was no other feeling except loss and that certainly wasn't enough to call the blue fire.

"Didn't he tell you he didn't have any sons to give it to? I looked in your mind while you out cold. That meant he didn't have any sons he _liked_ to give it to. He loved you though, vermin, and you in turn stabbed him with it. Oh the bitter taste of irony!" he said with the melodrama of an actor. He was an actor, but now he was no longer incognito and enjoying very second of her torment.

"You were very near in loving me, weren't you?" He asked with a thoughtful expression. Dorian knew the answer and laughed. "I'm a wonderful performer. I'm magnificent. All of you suckers ate every bit of that act." Mari wasn't listening any more as the dizziness hit her, and his face doubled in her vision. Her head drooped down again and she saw that the front of her shirt was soaked in blood. "I'm bored, I wonder what's taking him so long," he complained twirling the dagger on the floor like a top.

Who's "him"? she wondered, feeling light headed. He kept on talking but Mari felt as if he was speaking a foreign language. The words didn't make any sense like it did before. She decided it was a good thing. Listening to Dorian was more painful than driving an electric drill through her brain. For a second she could catch what he was saying.

"…so in honor of his memory, I will do this with pleasure." Then she physically _was_ dying. The dagger, the dagger that had once meant so much to her, was in her stomach. Funny, it didn't feel like anything. It had hurt like hell at first but then her body slid into shock. She often wondered what that was like, when there was so much pain the mind told the body to shut down for a while, and now she was experiencing it. Absently, she heard fabric and skin ripping as he dragged the knife across her belly.

Dorian sucked in a breath and shook his head with a smile. "Now that ain't pretty. By the look on your face, I'm guessing it's not hurting enough." Even if she felt it, pain wouldn't have mattered, nothing would have mattered. Life wasn't worth living right now. It _definitely_ wasn't worth listening to the stranger any more. She closed her eyes.

Wind passed her face and with a great effort she opened her heavy eyelids.

"Haven't you listened to anything I said?" The boy had Dorian against the wall, his feet dangling in the air. "I'm not going to wait for Hunter to take care of this, I'll do it myself."

For the first time she saw Dorian scared. She could only tell by his eyes, but it was there, horror. For somebody who would have murdered anybody from a baby to an old lady, it was strange that he was afraid of death.

"You can't," he objected quickly. "If you do, you'll be punished. You'll die." The boy—dammit she still couldn't remember his name—slammed his head against the wall.

"I don't give a damn." Swiftly, he turned and pulled the knife out of her stomach, making more blood spurt. "Nobody will miss you any way," he said tiredly. Dorian's thin cry echoed in the chamber before silence blanketed them again.

The boy gently untied her and laid her on the freezing ground. For a moment, just for a fraction of a second, her vision cleared. The boy was handsome, maybe even stunning when she could see better, and had deep crimson hair, darker than blood. Pale blue-green eyes met hers. She gasped when her mind, her useless, easily fooled mind, gave her a name. "Valdis," she whispered. He smiled slightly and nodded.

"Don't worry, Mari. It's going to be all right. I'm going to take care of everything." She passed out, thinking all sorts of drowsy thoughts about her hero.

~*~*~*~

"I thoroughly disapprove of duels. I consider them unwise and I know they are dangerous. Also, sinful. If a man should challenge me now I would go to that man and take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet retired spot and _kill_ him." Mark Twain

Interesting fact that no one cares about: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) is distantly related to former Yankee Paul O'Neill. GO YANKEES!


	2. Frozen Fire 2

Author: Adelaide

Disclaimer: The Night World and its characters were created by L.J. Smith.

Summary: The continuation of Frozen Fire. In this part, two daybreakers join in holy matrimony. Another rather lonely Daybreaker takes an unexpected trip to Briar Creek Oregon (gee I wonder who…) And somebody disappears…this is the part where the mysterious music plays and everybody gasps. All together now!

Frozen Fire

September 21, 1999

Boston, Massachusetts 

This time it wasn't a slow, layer by layer, degree by degree awakening. Something suddenly awoke her, the unknown force was urgent. Her eyes flew open and she sucked in air, as much as she could. But she couldn't get enough, she realized, panicking. It was as if her airways shrunk by the seconds, and the knot in her insides made her writhe painfully. Somebody held her frantic hands and gave her a glass of water. 

Or what she thought was water. It smoothed the tightening in her stomach, let her breath freely, and brought back feeling and control in her limbs. It was like a power bar, except liquid, thick, and red… Mari stared at the nearly empty glass and then through it at the wall twenty feet in front of her. The glass shattered, the blood gave a crude coloring to the cream wall, even filling the cracks. Mari stopped herself. How could she have seen those cracks if she was near sighted? And how could she have thrown so far and fast?

Her hand fumbled towards her stomach and she couldn't find any scars or half healed openings. "Am I in hell?" She certainly wasn't going to heaven.

"No, this is the waiting room," a boy muttered, walking through a door and came out with a rag and a little broom and dust pan. She recognized him immediately.

"Valdis? What are you doing here?" She looked around. Although it was in pitch blackness, she could see the room was finely furnished with modern furniture. Black leather couches, big screen TV, impressive collection of DVD's and CD's . There was a spiral stair step going down and there was the rest of the abode.

"I live here. This is my apartment in Boston." Back to the east coast. Back to the Night World. 

Mari was laying on a large bed that wasn't really in a bedroom, but rather the whole top floor. She lifted the cotton sheets and saw she was in a large Nike shirt. "Who changed my clothes? And what am I doing here? Why did you save me? How did you save me? I was nearly dead."

Valdis began to wipe the wall and sweep up the glass bits. "I changed your clothes, don't worry I didn't enjoy it. You're here because I didn't trust putting you in a Holiday Inn. I saved you because I'm getting paid to save you. And you were dead, for a while." Mari climbed out of the bed and stood on two wobbly legs, thankful the shirt hung past her knees. 

"What do you mean, for a while? You're either dead or you're not. You can't…" He gave an impatient sound that was very close to a snarl and scowled at her.

"What are you, stupid? Did you expect me to take you to take you to a hospital? You wouldn't have survived as a human so you're surviving as a vampire. Get over it." Mari sat back down and the feeling of choking was coming back. She couldn't be, it was _wrong_. It wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be _her_ choice because it was _her_ body and now somebody had changed her into a different person without her consent.

"Valdis, how could you?" Her voice matched the look in her wide, round eyes. Full of disbelief, which would soon border in denial or self hatred. "You…"she closed her eyes as if there were some bitter taste in her mouth, "…you, you changed me. You changed my body, my life, my…" Her full lips were twisting with burning anger as her voice rose. "You changed my world! You son of a bitch, how could you do this to me?" she roared again. She thought she cried her eyes dry before but now the tears were surfacing. "I didn't even want to…How could you do this to me?" she asked again, in a somewhat subdued voice. Mari had no idea why she was being so emotional in front of somebody she didn't want to let her guard down. All she knew now as that she was a monster that was never supposed to exist. She was supposed to die when Dorian killed her. Her hands moved up to try to wipe away the tears. Just as the rush of ire ebbed, another rose at the last thought. "Bastard! How the hell would you feel if you were transformed into a human without your consent? Just when things were going to be over, just when you were about to rest, someone changed your goddamn existence!"

When she met his eyes, Valdis was staring at her with utter contempt. "What's the matter with you?" he roared back, a look of desperation mixed with anger on his face. "You're better than before! Stop ranting like a lunatic, some people would love to have your power." Mari just shook her head and pulled her knees into the baggy shirt. It felt awful, to see Valdis yelling at her, and to have him see her so emotional. She felt the cold air press on her, and began to shake. That was strange, because no the temperatures didn't affect her. No, she wasn't cold, the world was. Everything and everyone in it…

"Stop it!" Mari realized numbly that she was sending out her thoughts. Valdis went on. "God, you're so depressing. Shut up. It's not that bad, you're adapting faster than other made vampires do when they first wake up. Most are irrational and can't control—never mind, you won't even listen. Deal with it. You won't be staying here long any way," he finished brusquely and descended down the spiral stair case. She had no idea why she felt relieved when she heard the TV turn on, meaning he hadn't left. Maybe because she needed him for money, transportation, and other means.

But she needed somebody to talk to and somebody to comfort her with the change. Her mind automatically showed her Dorian, smiling and holding his arms out for her. Dorian was her ideal of comfort and sweetness. The image rippled and the smile he had was a scornful smile. His arms weren't held out for an embrace but to capture and kill. He was looming closer with his charming, insane eyes.

"VALDIS!" she cried. Mari flew from the bed and scrambled down the stair steps. The TV was on but she couldn't find him. "Valdis!"

"What?" he called, obviously irritated. Valdis was lying on the couch, hidden from her view. Since he wouldn't move his legs, she sat on his calves and socked feet. Mari dropped when he pulled his legs out from under her. "What do you want?"

What did she want? She wasn't really sure and if she did know Valdis was the last person she'd turn to. Arguing with him would distract her, but for only so long. "Tell me what happened." That was something she needed to learn.

He sighed. "I went to go to the rest of the team that it was time to get rid of Dorian. He did his job and was then becoming nuisance. They agreed, I came in, and killed him. It had nothing to do with you. I could care less if he tore out your entrails if there wasn't any money involved. " He shrugged and she noticed that Valdis was keeping a safe distance away from her. Mari's eyes shot daggers at him. He responded by rolling his eyes. 

Mari thought over her situation. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, feeling a small victory that her voice had returned to the icy tone she had used most of her life.

"Hunter's given up on you, I'm not surprised by the way. How could anybody believe a spoiled brat like you would cooperate is beyond me. You don't have to do anything, you moron. The council wants you alive, who knows why. Just lay low until January the second. After they're done with you, you're free to go. If I don't kill you first." Valdis concentrated on the screen. 

Mari followed his gaze and found he was interested in an infomercial for a paper bag. "I'm free to go now," she informed him stiffly. She stood up and walked towards the door with a peep hole in it. She didn't want to look like an idiot and walk in the closet.

"You might want to put some pants on. Just a suggestion." Well, she'd look like an idiot in another way then.

Mari turned a blazing glare on him and calmed down instantly. Like he said, she was being stupid, again. He knew what would happen to her if a Night person got their hands on her. Permanently dead. What he suggested before was kind. Since when was he kind?

"Sit down. I have to tell you something."

"You know what," she began as she sank into a cushy leather seat across from him. "Your attitude has gotten a lot more shitty since I last met you," she observed in biting tones.

"Sorry," he said spitefully. "Being around you can make any one less than cheery." There was something like bitterness in his voice, but not quite. "While I was changing you, I…" He sounded enraged, not with her, but with himself. Yes, this Valdis was definitely moodier.

"Come on Valdis, spit out." 

"Would you shut up and let me talk?" he yelled violently. To her dismay, she found herself sinking lower into the seat. He continued in a lower voice. 

"Who is the last person in the world you'd think of marrying or being soul mates with? That you've met," he added hastily, knowing very well she would answer with "Donald Trump" just to be a smart ass.

Dorian was the first person to spring to her mind, but she was certain he didn't mean that. Mari thought long and hard and came up with the obvious answer

"You," she answered easily. There must have been dozens she could have said but it was easier to insult him this way. "I'm guessing your answer would be me. Where are you going with this?" Valdis' eyes darkened the moment she answered. 

"Exactly," he said. "When I bit you I felt that thing." he muttered, and his eyes were kept averted. "That thing," he said a little bit more urgent. 

Mari shook her head, not comprehending what he was so desperately trying to explain. "That thing is a really broad subject, Valdis. I need some more info here." If Valdis got this frazzled over something, it had to be important.

"I am not being this mad and moody for no reason, okay?"

"Oh, Valdis," she gushed brightly. "You're pregnant!" Her mockery nearly earned her a strangling, but her hero thought better of it. 

"If you know what I know…," he muttered.

"Then help me know. I can't understand this sudden male PMS going on, unless you come right out and tell me."

"Maria..."

"Mari."

"Mari, you and me…we're, you know." A pregnant pause, during which she studied her nails. "Soul mates. I felt your mind, well your unconscious mind any way. And," He never got to finish.

Valdis. Her soul mate. It was such a stupid idea it was laughable. But Valdis never didn't want to tell her this to make her laugh. He looked serious and she almost believed him. Almost.

He was working for the same kind of people Dorian worked for. Of course he was lying. He never lied to her before, but then again there was always a first. Mari's mind hurt with so many words to say, to shout. Instead she simply stared at him, a humorless smile finding it's way to her lips. Quickly, her expression darkened, and anger radiated off her in heat waves. "Damn you, Valdis, wasn't Dorian enough?" she growled as she ran up the stairs. There was absolutely no way she could stay another minute, not with actors baiting her with enticing words at every turn. _Apparently the only way to escape the liars is a vacation to a mime school._

Mari must have made skin contact with him before. She was sure of it and there had been no sparks then. Although she couldn't recall any isolated incident, there must have been a time when they touched. How could she spend months with the bastard and not touch him?

After finding some sweat pants that were barely hanging on by a long belt, she climbed down the stairs again to meet her "soul mate." 

"You know what? You're sick. You, Hunter, every single one of you will do any thing and every thing just to save your own sorry asses, including fooling me. Well, don't expect me to stay around this time, not for the tragic love story to start all over again. I'm not some fucking love sick puppy who'll fall in your arms the second you say your lines! I'm not stupid!" Mari never felt this wrathful, which seemed more appropriate a word than angry, toward any one before. Tears, hateful tears, not tears for the loss of anybody, blurred her vision as she crossed toward her hero, her supposed soul mate.

"You think that I'd make this up? Believe me, the last thing I want is to spend the rest of my life with you!" he hollered back. Barely reaching his shoulder, Mari refused to cower with him towering and yelling at her.

"Congratulations, you're not going to have to. Just give me some money, and I'll be on my way." He had to give her something after what he did. Out of no where, she began to hurt, a new pain to add to her collection of feelings. Valdis was hurting her.

"Fine. But I don't want you thinking as you leave that I was another liar, getting paid to make you love me. Because I'm not. I'm _not_!" He grabbed the coffee table with one hand and violently flung across the room. The wood and glass masterpiece crashed loudly against the wall. 

__

He has a very bad temper, she thought distractedly. _Like yours is _so_ much better, _hermind returned. 

For a moment he stared at the broken pieces and gripped at control. Valdis turned to her, his eyes alarmingly urgent. "I don't do that," he stressed heavily. "I don't. Don't even think I would pretend because…because…it's not worth it. You're not worth it. I've never lied to you before and I'm not going to start now." With frenzied motions that contrasted his stoic tone, he pulled out dollar bills out of his pocket and threw it at her.

"I don't give a damn if you haven't lied before because you are lying to my face right now," she said quietly. Mari had to swallow her pride as she bent to pick up the money on the floor. _This is what my mother must have done_, she thought with shame. Picking up money from a stranger after spending the night with him. "We are not soul mates. I'm not as stupid, blind, or naïve as I was before. And by the way, there is nothing you could do that could make me love something like you. Even if we were soul mates, I would never, ever love you." Calmly, she turned and walked towards the door, counting her foot steps. The door looked so achingly far away. One, two, three, four…

Valdis grabbed by her hand and roughly turn her around. She hadn't realized he had broken her fingers until she felt the bones mending themselves. That didn't matter any more. 

It was nothing like what her friends' had said. Were they her friends? No, not really any way. Maybe they were lying about how the soul mate link worked. Because what she felt was like she was being pulled under water, letting the thoughts and feelings spread over her until she was floating through him. Mari didn't like it there. There was so much hatred, and murders. Killing his friends, his family to get his position, killing witches, and vampires to get more power. Immeasurable hatred for humans, for people who didn't do a damn thing to him. At least he was truthful to every one he murdered, she thought grimly. But what wounded terribly her was the fact she was in that group of humans he hated. It didn't matter what freak she had become now because he would always view her as vermin. Nothing but play things and a food source.

And this man was her other half. This evil person was supposed to make her whole, to complete her for the rest of her life. Neither of them wanted that.

Mari let go, not caring what he saw of her. It didn't matter any more because he didn't want to see her, to talk to her, he didn't even want to love her. 

"You can't go, Maria." He didn't want her to stay because he wanted her. It was his job.

Mari had to laugh. He, after all that happened, he expected her to listen. She demurred softly, "Let me guess, you won't get paid by your bosses? My big brave Valdis cowering before another. Not so hard to imagine. Guess what? I. Don't. Care. I don't care about having El Diablo for a soul mate or about choosing sides. 

"I'm leaving. Don't you dare lift a finger to stop me." On this third trip he didn't try to stop her. Before she walked out, Mari felt compelled to look at him. The moonlight made his blood red hair black. He was looking back at the TV, not caring if she left. _Looks like_ _the price on my head wasn't high enough_, she thought bitterly. 

Mari walked out, determined to solve a problem, one that would please a whole world. Question was, whose world would it be?

~*~*~*~

September 22, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

12:03 AM

"How could he? We all trusted him," Hannah shook her head disappointedly.

"We were stupid. Mari's probably dead by now," Quinn's voice was flat and held no room for an arguments. Rashel didn't feel like fighting with him, but she didn't agree with him either. Mari could live, she was a survivor. 

Then again, Dorian's betrayal could have taken a toll on her survival skills.

"If we're going to fight, we're going to need every body in Circle Daybreak," Thierry thought aloud. He had been saying things like that ever since the members arrived hours before. After resting and eating, the meeting had finally come to order.

Everybody was silent again, letting the leader's word bounce off the walls of the dining hall. It was the only place with enough room to fit the extra one hundred daybreakers who came to join the two hundred once they heard the news. And after hundreds of angry words and suggestions, there was no plan.

"What if we don't want to be here for the final battle?" a voice spoke up. Normally laid back, Ash sounded strained and stressed.

"And where do you plan to go?" James asked with a hint of annoyance. Poppy looked at him worriedly. Everybody was on edge.

"To my sisters. Is that a problem for you?" Ash's voice was challenging and he appeared to be eager for a diversion.

"Shut up," Nissa broke in the same time James said, "We are all putting our lives on the line here…"

"Stop it!" As always, they obeyed the Maiden. "We need to find the fourth wild power. Hunter has washed his hands of Maria and has set forth assassins to assure his victory. The Night World Council recently learned of her and we're not entirely sure what their choice of action is. Either way, live or die, the Night World will win. Trading threats and insults will not help us. Ash, can't your sisters come here, or with us when we fight?"

Ash sulked at the floor. Poppy answered for him. Tossing her coppery curls over her shoulder, she turned to Aradia. "It's not just his sisters, Aradia. He has a girl…"

"Oh please," James sighed and rolled his eyes. Poppy glared at him.

"Would you just shut up for a second? Ever since you got off the plane you've been nothing but grumpy."

"Grumpy isn't the word I'd use," Gillian mused absently. She sounded sleepy, having talked to James and Poppy throughout the whole flight.

"It's my soul mate okay? Remember I told you about Mary-Lynnette, James? Excuse me if I want to spend my last moment on earth with her. And no," he addressed to Quinn before his friend could ask. "She can't come here. She'll probably want to be with her family when the apocalypse comes."

"It's not as bad as you guys think," Maggie called. She and Delos were at the back of the hall. "You speak like there will be one big bang and everybody will be dead. But what you don't realize that if the Night World wins, we're going to need a place for humans that the Night People won't be able to get to. Other wise, if we just sit here and talk about the end of the world, they'll just enslave all your loved ones and the last time you'll see them is in chains."

This caused another dull roar from the crowd. Morgead stood on a chair and waved them to be quiet. "So what do you propose, Maggie? We build an underground kingdom? We don't have enough time. We never could have had enough time to build a world for the four billion that might have survived."

"But we could always try, can't we?" a new voice from the east entrance. It was a little boy with dark brown hair and an angelic voice. By his expression, they could tell he had been listening for some time.

Rashel left the folding chair she was sharing with Quinn. "Timmy, you're not supposed to be here," she chided in a motherly voice. Sometimes it didn't work, when he would become reckless and violent. She scooped him up and he rested his head on her shoulder. The daybreakers made sure to be quiet as she carried him up the stairs.

"That's another thing," Jez observed once Rashel and Timmy were out of view. "Who's going to take care of the kids while we're out at war? Some of these people have families, Thierry, they just can't take off. How many can be spared to take care of the children? With the witches joining us, there are at least hundreds, maybe thousands, children that aren't ready to fight but need to be protected."

"There are too many problems. How are we going to take care of everything in three months?" Nyala asked.

"If we find Mari we won't have to worry about them," Thierry pointed out.

"But will she be willing to fight by our side is another matter." Hannah mentioned quietly. The room fell into silence. Nobody had thought of that possibility.

"It was the Night World who betrayed her, wasn't it? Why should she want to fight for them?" Gillian became doubtful with each word.

Aradia spoke up in a calm, collected voice. "She has nobody to trust now. She needs to decide if she wants to fight at all."

~*~*~*~

October 13, 1999

Motel somewhere near Boston

"I'm just curious, not vain," she told herself when she finally opened her eyes. Mari frowned. There was no change. She had the same shining black hair that fell to her waist, the same slightly slanted amber eyes. Frustrated, she took off her shirt.

"That's all?" As far as she could tell, the only visual difference was the fact that her chicken pox scars were gone.

Satisfied, she changed into the shirt and sweat pants she bought at the street corner from Valdis's apartment. It was only minorly embarrassing to shop at the same store where ten year olds shop, but at least the clothes fit. It was far from her usual jeans and black and white tops. The shirt was a sickening pink and the white sweats had blue butterflies on the front pockets, but she would just have to make do. He had given her one hundred dollars and she intended to use it wisely, at least until she found a more stable way of living.

She took the bundle of clothes in her arms and dropped them in the trash can. It made her heart ache that they smelled like him. Mari corrected herself. Her heart was only an organ to pump blood to the rest of the body. Her mind was making up the emotion and she could make it go away.

"That's strange," she told the empty motel room. She could literally sail through her thoughts and arrange them to her will. It was like floating through Valdis's mind except now she was in a more familiar terrain. When she couldn't remember past the age of four or three, she could dive easily into her memories of such an early youth. A stranger appeared, one who looked like her but had sparkling blue eyes and dark brown hair. Even in a faded memory she could see that the woman was as small as her.

"My mother," she said in wonder. Mari was looking at the woman through an infant's eyes, with love and complete, unwavering trust. Then the woman was singing to her and rocking her to sleep. Such a lovely tune, and the woman had a hypnotic voice. Mari heard an angelic squeal. Was that her laughing? The woman laughed in turn and kissed her nose.

The other memory she had was her mother's death. The run down apartment was scattered with broken and overturned furniture. "They sure made a mess just to kill one person." She could here somebody crying about her baby. Then a face loomed over her, and a young Dorian lifted her out of the crib. He couldn't have been no more than thirteen in her mind. Mari pulled away from her mind and felt herself in her body.

"I wish I could have killed him," she muttered solemnly. Dorian used to be the one she could turn to. Now she didn't have any body. She was supposed to have friends, but they were people who needed until the New Year. She was supposed to have a soul mate, but he didn't want her. He was loyal to the Night World and the Night world only.

Well maybe not loyalty exactly. It wasn't very loyal of him to stab his best friend in the back, literally, when he thought the other vampire was a threat to his new friendship with a council member. More like loyalty to the highest bidder. There was no changing that. By saving her life, he was already going back on his boss. If Mari and Valdis met at different times, in different lives, it might have worked out. But Valdis wasn't going to help a daybreaker when demons were his leader.

"It's not like I would have made him convert to Circle Daybreak. I wouldn't do that, try to change him. I just wanted somebody to make me feel better," she pleaded pathetically. But nobody was listening, she was alone. Then again, Hunter was probably sending some assassins to her room as she thought. 

"No." She wasn't going to be killed like her mother and she wasn't going to wait for death. Mari stood up and winced at the pain in her side. The glass of blood wasn't enough. She was going to have to find a donor. Somebody was bound to be at the bar across the street..

An hour later, she stood over a thirty something man who had too many tattoos. Of course she could have hunted down some animal, but an animal didn't deserve being sucked dry. They didn't plot, lie, or kill for fun. He definitely deserved it, he had abused to many girl friends, and whores in his lifetime to go unpunished. There was another car coming by but the driver couldn't see her in the wall of bushes and trees. Nobody went to where she took the man. There was a barb wire fence that she sliced through to get on the land that belonged to somebody who wasn't taking care of it. After slitting the throat where she had bitten, she jumped over the fence just to show off to the animals who were watching. She was sure the crows and worms would take advantage the carcass as soon as she left. Now she had to find Hunter, and fly to whatever state he was in.

~*~*~*~

October 20, 1999

An enclave off of Maine

"This was a wonderful plan," he boasted to Traces. His first plan had gone terribly awry, but things had picked up at the end. 

Traces didn't answer, he almost never did. Hunter didn't usually look at the help when he spoke to them. Bragged mostly. He continued, "She's probably off somewhere killing herself. Killed by some daybreaker who didn't recognize her in her new form. And with her gone, I'll teach all those council members not to underestimate me." Hunter paused, and concluded he couldn't really blame them for underestimating a supposed dead man. "And that traitor Thierry. I'll teach the whole world," he finished merrily. He was in a good mood. After draining a pretty little girl and hearing news that Maria was a vampire, he was just ecstatic. "I wonder how long it took her to adapt."

"Not very long." Hunter allowed himself gasp before controlling himself and spun his chair around to find his best spy dried like a raisin on the floor. Maria smiled sweetly at him. 

"That was my best spy. How am I supposed to replace thousands of years experience?," he yelled at her through clenched teeth. 

She gave a little shrug. "You kept him a little preoccupied. A good spy should always be aware of his surroundings. Don't be surprised to find a little trail of dead guards in your secret entrance. So hard to find good help these days, isn't it?" Mari sat in a Victorian love seat and widened her smile at him. "We need to talk."

Hunter calmed. He knew exactly how to handle the situation. "Didn't Dorian explain things perfectly before?" Instead of faltering, the girl maintained her pleased countenance.

"Yes, but now we must discuss the current terms." Dorian was not a weakness any more; he tried a new tactic.

"How current? Are you willing to discuss how your Circle Daybreak friends will die on December thirty first?" She laughed amiably. Damn.

"No, Hunter you seem to be unaware of the current events. I no longer have any friends. Except family. To the Night World, I am Maria Redfern, am I not? How about letting one of your relations live till January the second? Afterwards you can do what you please. Just tell your minions to abort the mission for the time being."

Hunter replayed every word she said back to him. Two problems. "What will you be doing between now and January second? Playing spy for Thierry?"

Mari didn't even blink. "Have you no faith in me? Or are you deaf? No, no spying for that man. I'm just going to take care of unfinished business, that's all." Hunter finally figured out what happened. His little girl had gone tragically mad. 

"Fine," he agreed, surprising himself. "but you will be monitored. My people will make sure you're not tattling on me or plotting to kill me for that matter. Otherwise you dispatch whoever you want. Don't cause me any trouble darling."

Mari stood up and stepped over Traces to lift up a tapestry. "Don't worry, I'll behave." She exited silently.

Hunter was more than ecstatic now. Just in pure bliss. Of course he'd have to have two dozen vampires check her story and watch her, but he was sure she was being honest. Maybe he didn't have to kill her, keep her after the millennium to keep the slaves in check. He leaned farther back into the chair. It was nice to have an obedient daughter. 

~*~*~*~

October 23, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Hunter has sent you a love letter," Gillian hollered once she reached Thierry's floor. She burst into his study and covered her eyes with her free hand. "You've got mail."

Hannah laughed. "We were just kissing. A love letter? Thierry is there something you should tell me?" Thierry sat up and took the envelopes from Gillian's hand.

"Hey, that one's mine. It's from David," she chirped happily and snatched it away from him. "What does he say?" she asked seriously, and sat on the floor.

"Time for another meeting. Hunter literally wants to battle."

Two hours later, they were once again gathered in the dining hall. The number had decreased to a hundred, the others dispersing around the world to attend to other business. 

"What is it?" Ash called tiredly. Clearly eleven o' clock was not the best time to talk to him.

"I got a letter from Hunter. He says, and I quote, 'perhaps the best way to settle our differences that refer to the ruling species should be settled on the battle field.'"

"Them's fightin' words," Poppy drawled with a Texan accent.

"He's suggesting that we play war? Night World against the rest of the world?" Rashel asked with interest.

"Wrong," Morgead droned, drawing out the word so he sounded like a buzzer. "Do you think the rest of the human population would jump at the chance of fighting side by side with the vampires, witches and shape shifters three months before the possible fall of the dominant species? Remember, in their view, some of us are looked as unholy creatures of the night that should never exist. Nope, it's gotta be Night World against Circle Daybreak and the rest of the world can be the audience."

"Wonderful speaking skills," Eric commented. Morgead bowed.

"Where does he propose this battle? We can't exactly hold it in the back yard, if you assent," Galen said in a calculating voice.

"Will you believe me when I say Iceland isn't the only island next to Greenland?" Thierry asked.

"Judging by your voice, I'd say yes," Maggie concluded.

"There's an island about the same size some ways southwest of it. I know it sounds strange that it has remained undiscovered, but it's the same deal with the enclaves. When scientists, whalers, or anybody else looked towards it, they didn't see the huge island with castles and villages. All that they saw was the ocean that went on to the North Pole. Some explorers thought they sailed through it, but in reality they sailed around it, the spell creating the illusion in the mind. It's simple once you think about it," he finished with a shrug.

"Does this happen to be the Damned Clan Island? Originally a post hell experience for those who committed treason against the Night World?" Thea inquired.

"Looks like some of us would be going to the right place," Delos muttered from the window.

"I remember Grandma Harman talking about that place. But Hunter stopped using it as his personal torture chamber when there were just too many traitors to keep in line."

"Focus people," Fayth called with a slightly raised voice. "This could be a trap," she pointed out to Thierry.

"Hunter may be any things, but when he wants a fight he wants a fight. He wouldn't ruin it by letting his employees kill his opponents before he sees them. No, by the looks of it, Hunter wants a true man to man combat. No tricks. Once again, the man is certain he will win."

"The odds are in his favor," Delos admitted.

"We don't have a choice," Keller stated flatly. Thierry glanced at her and nodded his head. 

"But what Thierry was thinking along the lines were: go to war, have Daybreakers in disguise on the other side, and they would get close to Mari and then, um, get her," Hannah finished weakly. 

"Eloquently put. But since we have some of the world's best strategists at hand, let's see if they have anything better," Thierry replied, and then ignored Poppy's suggestion to kidnap Colin Powell, followed by Keller's sarcastic response of resurrecting Winston Churchill. The daybreakers began to leave.

"And what was the point of the meeting? You guys could of had this without waking the morning impaired up," Ash yawned as he walked slowly out of the room.

"To inform us. And at least it was short," Gillian pointed out. Ash reached over and ruffled her light blonde hair. It was as if the girl didn't know how to complain. 

"When is David coming to visit? I have that brotherly duty to give him the third degree, you know."

"He wants to come over and I don't want to stay. But since I have at least two other weeks, he'll probably be here by next Wednesday. You're not seriously going to be yourself around him, are you?"

They reached Ash's door. "I'll think about it."

"Isn't weird how we all know what's going to happen, but we're still being normal?" 

"Yeah, sorta. Besides, I think it will all end all right. Mari's with us, she's with them, she's with us…it's kinda stupid you know? Like Hannah says, whatever happens was supposed to happen."

~*~*~*~

October 30, 1999

Mari's apartment, New York

Mari silently shut the door, crept up the stairs, and collapsed on her bed. She never felt this tired before. With all the work she had done in the past week there was no time left to sleep until she decided she was going to rest when she felt like it. 

In her opinion, all the hours of combat training produced nothing. And Hunter didn't even bother about the blue fire running in her blood. Clearly he thought there would be no point in making her practice with it because she wasn't going to use it. Or maybe he was afraid of it. But if she wanted to keep Hunter off her case, she would be a good little girl. She'd do anything to decrease the meetings with the overbearing, presumptuous reptile. After the first time she met up with him, she had almost thrown up. Who wouldn't, considering she had to be polite to the man who designed and destroyed her life?

Mari had no idea why she was training for a battle. She scoffed at the idea of brawling side by side Hunter. 

"Why January 2nd? That's so far away," she whined into the pillow. "And that means two months more. BUT," she said loudly, suddenly sitting up. "What if Hunter doesn't *want* to kill me? That'd suck."

Mari didn't believe arguing with one's self was a healthy habit, but she wasn't talking to herself. Mari was talking to her mother, her real mother. "And then there's the whole soul mate dilemma. God, I am just screwed up and I ruin everything around me." It wasn't self pity, just merely stating a never ending fact.

Mari pictured her mother would assure her and comfort her. Her mother. Gwendolyn Marks. Her father's name was Teddi Tybal. Mari pictured he was just a man who was looking for a good time. Just a stupid man who meant nothing to her. She had no idea why her last name was Tybal, but she didn't feel like changing it. That wasn't important. But her mother was important to her, truly important. She was the only woman who cared for her not caring if she was a wild power or not. Gwendolyn was the only one who ever did that.

"It would have never worked with Valdis, would it?" she asked her softly. "Because he would always look at me as a wild power, never as his soul mate. The Night World comes first, and there was never a second until he met me. That's why he hates me, because I'm a problem that he's not allowed to kill off. I saw all of this in two seconds, mother."

And then her mother would say something motherly like, "I'm sure he doesn't hate you." or, "You could find somebody so much better."

"But you never met your soul mate so you don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. Mari lay down on the bed again, mind whirling with ideas to solve her problems. There had to be a solution, the last being suicide, which she was sure wouldn't be too bad considering she should have been dead for a while now.

"I have to stop doing this. I am not insane, I never will be." Mari desperately wanted to believe that but how could she when she was talking to somebody who was dead for eighteen years? Then that feeling came back, that feeling of apathy to both the worlds she knew. There was no way she could sit around in her apartment while there was the climatic battle deciding the fate of the world going on. The phone rang.

She knew who it would be because there was only one person who knew the number. He was also the only one who knew where she lived. Let Hunter talk to the answering machine.

"Darling, I know you're there but I can forgive your rudeness when I remember that you must be tired after training. After thinking for a while,"

"Not your best skill," she spat at the machine.

"…don't want to fight in the Final Battle. I completely understand. There would be far too much blood and gore for your taste and I would hate myself if you were hurt. But,"

"Oh there's always a 'but.'" she said in a muffled voice with her face flat in a pillow.

"…there. So that when we win, I can present you formally and properly to Night World. Everybody will mark you as an icon of the triumph in the Final Battle. There will be a place for you on a hill overlooking the field of violence so that you'll be out of harm's way. Of course I wouldn't dream of forcing you to stay out there alone so there will be two…"

Mari stopped listening. Her life, on the scale of one to twenty, was close to negative ninety. She hated the idea of war and now he was going to make her watch it.

~*~*~*~

November 8, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

"…and since that nobody has thought of a more feasible plan, we're forced to fight. I'm not going to make you to come along, so if you feel this plan is too stupid then you can leave now." Nobody moved.

"Are humans being allowed to go?" Delos asked gravely.

"Those with fighting experience. Otherwise they're going to watch over the children with the elderly witches. And there is _no_ saying otherwise. I understand that this may be difficult, parting with some of your loved ones, but there is no other way," Thierry answered in earnest. 

"What are our numbers without the members who will not fight?" Rashel asked with a little wobble in her voice.

"Around the world, roughly ten thousand," Lupe answered from the back.

"How many in the Night World who will fight?" Keller tried to keep neutral.

"Thirty thousand. Probably maybe a little less than that who will be on the enclaves during the battle. To ensure that the Night World will live on if there was a chance of defeat," Quinn listed the facts automatically, absently staring at Rashel. Grasping the idea that Rashel might die and he couldn't stop it. All he could do was die with her. Many of the Daybreakers were sharing that thought.

"What if we started to learn how to fight now? Could we leave in December?" David sounded so hopeful Ash felt sorry for him. 

"What are you doing? You're going to stay and watch the children," Gillian protested.

"So are you," Hannah told her quietly. Gillian stared at her blankly before recovering.

"What? But I have powers, I can fight. You know I can, you've seen me…"

"You're too soft," Morgead told her shortly. "Even if you could make a whole in the world, we all know you would cry if you stepped on an ant. I doubt that you could kill."

David opened his mouth but came up short. "I can't think of a defense," he whispered to Gillian. She shrugged and sat back in her seat with a stormy look.

"The groups around the world will all take flight around seven am on December twenty ninth. The witches will arrive first to put up wards around our camp. We meet on our side of the island. They stay on their side of the island, we stay on ours until Hunter sends word," Thierry acknowledged in the same serious tone.

"Two enemies on each side of the field and they charge at each other. Is that what he means?" James asked dully.

"Why do I feel like we're going to lose?" Val asked miserably.

"Because you're a pessimist," a serene Thea answered. 

"These months will pass by before we know it. Better get some sleep," Thierry declared standing up. 

"It's only one AM," Jez said softly. There was no point in arguing. The Elder shrugged and left the room, his soul mate thinking for a moment before she followed him.

"Come on, we can't do much just sitting around," Morgead said gruffly and led Jez out of the room. Soon most of the Daybreakers were leaving the room, mostly in pairs until Ash and a few others were left. The others were all talking, holding hands, or hugging.

He couldn't stand it, seeing couples at every turn. Within less than a second, he made a decision. 

Five minutes, two floors, and ten rings later, a groggy, irritated girl picked up the phone. "Do you know what time it is? I'm very happy with my long distance plan right now, so stop calling. Honestly telemarketers have no hearts," she said, her voice becoming more distant.

"Wait," he called urgently. "Mary Lynette, it's me, Ash. I have to talk to you."

~*~*~*~

November 13, 1999

Mari's Apartment

"I'm going to have to kill him, because if he's still around, I'll always think about him and I hate thinking about him," she went on. It was times like these when she wished she either had a girl friend or was an entirely different person.

"Kill who?" Gwendolyn asked.

"Valdis. Stupid, mean, cruel, evil Valdis. He's not good enough to be my soul mate. He's just this other half of me that I'm embarrassed about, like a zit. But my zit is equal to Hunter and that's not a good thing." Mari decided that she wasn't insane for talking to her mother, she was just having an imaginary friend to take away the loneliness. Four year olds had imaginary friends and nobody called them insane.

Gwendolyn had no reply for that.

"But what I'm worried about is the fact that if he is my other half, the one that I am meant to be with and if he…goes away, then I'll spend the rest of my life feeling heart breakingly alone."

"But what if you went with him? Then you wouldn't be alone for the rest of your long life, just for a few seconds."

Mari stared at the image of her mother, eyes wide with shock. Her mother was suggesting that she commit suicide? True, she had considered it time and time again, but it was strange that some one who should love her was telling her to kill herself. 

But when she looked closer she saw her "mother" wasn't her mother at all. It was Gwendolyn's dainty body but the other features were different. Soft, shining black hair and angry amber eyes. It was _herself_. "Oh, go away!"

As if she was a flame to blow out, the small girl was gone from her bed. "I am not insane. It all depends on one's definition of insane and I am not insane."

There were only forty eight more days until the Final Battle. Forty seven till she had to fly to that Damned something island with Hunter. With sudden lucid thoughts, she realized she didn't want Valdis to die while she watched.

An hour later she was out the door to find him. There wasn't enough time to fully understand why or what she was going to do but it was clear that she had to find him. She had to find Valdis and talk to him about the Final Battle. Not to mention about her and him and their entire screwed up situation.

~*~*~*~

November 13, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

For one day the house hold was filled with laughter and gaiety. It had seemed so long when they actually celebrated something important that it was necessary to have a party that the bride insisted upon not having. But in the end, Keller loved the attention the wedding reception had given her and Galen. After the wedding, they crowd (which would have been larger if some daybreakers had not flown back home to their families for the Thanks Giving holidays) followed the happy couple into the ball room.

"I would have never thought this was going to happen a few weeks ago," she whispered to Galen as they swayed to the slow music on the dance floor with every body watching. He kissed her cheek softly before answering.

"I've known ever since I met you this would happen. I just didn't know our marriage would happen so soon. Is that what you mean?" She nodded her head and laid it against his shoulder.

"Do you like my wedding dress?" she asked with a gentle laugh. In such short notice, she had to borrow one from Hannah. The silk cream dress reached her ankles and was held up on her shoulders with two thin straps. In the right angle, light would show the spray of roses that were cleverly embroidered in a shade lighter than the silk.

"You could have showed up in fig leaves and twigs and still look amazingly beautiful. I'm just happy we're here."

"I wish your parents were here," she replied sadly.

"I know, but they couldn't make it. You know they would have died to see you in a dress," he whispered, giving them both a laugh. Every where in the hall, there were flashes of camera light that would make them both a little dizzy.

As the song ended, Galen recalled the day. Waking up at four was a usual routine but the rest was just a dream. He had Quinn and David help him with the ceremony rituals and Ash to calm him down. As Thierry escorted his soul mate down the aisle, he stood so still he thought he'd explode. And how could he forget the deafening applause that spread across the ball room when they kissed? Yes, it had everything that was usual in a dream. Galen was happy he was awake.

They took their seats between Thierry , Hannah and Winnie, Nissa. After a number of toasts that seemed to be spoken by every body in Circle Daybreak, Thierry was one to give the last before every body retired to their rooms.

"And I know that you guys would just hate to see our bride and groom go," he said with a smile. As he expected, there were loud protests that told him to send them away. 

"I have decided to send them to the safe house in Canada. You'll have the huge cottage all to yourselves. No arguments. Consider it a gift from me and Hannah since we didn't get you a blender." 

Keller stood up. "But what about Iliana? I'm supposed to be her…"

But Iliana already had the answer for that. "There's no way I could keep you in the mansion for your honey moon, Keller. Besides me and Winnie already packed your bags. Galen's too. They're in the limo. Now it's off with you two love birds so that we could finally get some sleep around here."

"I'm game," Galen announced with eagerness. Keller and Galen gave thank you's and laughs as they passed through the massive crowd. There was so many pats slapped onto Galen's back that he almost tripped twice. 

When they left the mansion, wedding bubbles were filling the air as the day breakers blew them with all the air in their lungs. Before Keller followed Galen in the limo she threw the bouquet of white roses and baby's breath over her head. 

"Out of my way!" Iliana hollered as a circle formed around her so that she could be the only one who would catch the flowers. "I won't be able to reach it!" she yelled. Val stepped from behind her and lifted her up by the waist so that she could snatch it in the air. "I'm getting married!" she declared happily as he settled her back on the ground.

"I'd throw the garter, but Keller just won't allow it," Galen shouted from his seat. 

"Whipped!" his friend teased. With that note, Keller settled herself next to Galena and the group of Daybreakers waved them good bye. 

"Oh I hope a month and a half is enough for their honey moon," Iliana said sleepily. She decided she needed some sleep. In two days, Iliana would be on her way home for Thanks Giving.

"It's enough," Ash told her as he went in his room and came out with two suit cases. "How come I don't get a limo to the air port?"

"Because you don't have a wedding, yet," Quinn informed him. "Come on I'll walk you to the door. Rashel, I'll meet you in a few minutes." She nodded.

"Bye Ash," she yawned as she trudged up the stair steps.

"Bye Rashel. Come on Quinn, you need to help me through the treacherous path to the door." Ash offered his friend a bag which Quinn refused.

As they walked closer to the garage doors the playful banter quieted down. As they loaded his bag in the trunk of the emerald green Toyota Landcruiser. 

"Tell Mary Lynette that I hope to meet her some day, okay? And," Quinn didn't know where to begin. He wanted to say the right words in case the two friends never saw each other again.

Ash was sharing the same thoughts. "You take care of yourself when you get to that island. I don't want to come back to the mansion minus one best friend. And tell Rashel to take care of you out there. I know what a candy ass you are."

"You've been looking at my ass?" he asked. They laughed and Ash buckled himself into the driver's seat. "I'll see you later, Quinn." He meant it. Ash wanted to come back and see that everybody was fine, nobody was killed. But that would be impossible. All he could do was hope Quinn would survive. Quinn, Rashel, Iliana, Delos, Morgead, Jez…everybody. He wanted every body to live.

"You will," Quinn said again in a somber voice to match his face. There was no need for hugs or good byes. Ash nodded and left Quinn standing as he backed out of the garage. 

~*~*~*~

November 30, 1999

Boston, Massachusetts

"I spent a week trying to find him. Where is he?" Mari didn't need to fight or threaten anybody. Under the men's calm expressions, they were probably quaking in fear of the wild power. Mari felt she had more control when men three times her height were afraid of her. 

Nobody gave her trouble any more. And there was no need for worrying about the vampires who were supposed to be keeping her out of trouble. She gave them the day off after she fed last night on an alcoholic man who was beating his step son. Well, they didn't exactly want the day off, Mari just made them leave. Not one of them dared to protest.

The man snapped her out of her thoughts. "We have our orders, Mar" Mari cut the man off before he could finish.

"It's ma'am, you idiot. Did I or did I not ask you where he was? My patience is running thin, boys." Mari knew for a fact they were afraid of her by the way they weren't attacking her. She knew every single of one of them, maybe not their names, but she knew they were her guards before she left the castle. 

"He's on an enclave." The man who said it attempted an authoritative tone but squeaked when she looked straight at him.

"Doing what? Who's going to stay here and order you around?" Mari loved hearing her voice in chillingly imperious tones.

"I'm the leader while he's gone," a tall man answered in a humble tone. Then Mari realized that he wasn't tall, he was just tall to her_. Most people I've described as tall probably really aren't tall_, she thought with realization_. Wait, focus. You have a job to do,_ she told herself.

"Valdis is rather ashamed of this, but seeing as his father was killed and his mother insist upon it, he's getting married. It was arranged in a hurry, he's marrying a nice girl from another lamia family." Mari stopped listening and walked out the door with the minion in mid sentence.

As soon as she stepped out of the ugly ware house, the winter winds blasted her with their chills. By the brightness of the hum drum gray clouds, Mari guessed it was two o'clock. Mari wished she could feel the cold and shiver, but that would be human. Something she could never be again. And she had Valdis to thank for that.

Even if she didn't feel the cold winds, she dressed for it. With a lovely light yellow sweater and jeans, plus a light blue thick winter jacket, she was determined to look like a normal teenager. Mari climbed in the black Ferrari Hunter gave her and sped towards the coast. Hunter was bound to have a yacht some where. 

To comfort herself, she shifted her thoughts to her mother. She didn't feel like talking to a forced image of her, just the true memories she had of her. As a quest to kill time, Mari always tried to remember the song that she would sing to her. 

But some how her thoughts always drifted to Valdis. Her soul mate. Not hers for long. It was ludicrous for her to see him again. After all her parting words to him were deliberate threats. What was also ludicrous was that she was happy to learn was marrying some other girl, probably far more gorgeous than she could ever hope to be. And Mari would be alone for the rest of her life, which would be longer than she thought proper.

Valdis would be happy without Mari, with a girl who wasn't ungrateful for her vampire powers and wouldn't yell at him and challenge him at every conversation. She would love him and he would love her and every body would live happily ever after. Except for Mari Tybal.

With a firm hand on the wheel, she dialed the only number she knew. "Hunter?"

"I thought you wouldn't call me that any more." What was it with this man and being a father figure?

"Father," she said sweetly, despising the word. "I need to get to an enclave." Mari realized he probably needed an explanation before lending an eighteen year old a yacht. "I've been getting sick of being surrounded by so much vermin. I need to get to an enclave, where there are people worthy talking to. I'm tired of being on the mainland so…I need a yacht." At least she wasn't lying at the last part.

After a pause, Hunter sighed. "That is understandable. But do you really expect me to loan you a yacht? You can barely handle the Ferrari." Too true. The only reason she had no trouble talking to him and driving was because the high way was going straight and there was a very high speed limit. Other wise she terrified fellow drivers on smaller roads that curved.

Mari also knew that Hunter was testing her for something. Hunter was plainly a spoiled child to be amused so she had to play along. "Father, I need comfortable means of sea worthy transportation and you have it. Are you going to supply it or shall I hijack some fishing boat and show the world a vampire island?" Mari could almost see a smile spread over Hunter's ugly face.

"Of course I'll supply it." He quickly told her the directions to a port. Mari absorbed everything and almost hung up the phone when he asked, "By the way, which enclave?"

"Oh whatever I see first. It couldn't be too hard to find one, right?" Hunter agreed. She waited until she heard him hang up before tossing the phone in the passenger seat.

When she finally arrived at the port, she ordered the captain to teach her the basics and then sent him away. Then she was out on the Atlantic Ocean watching the sun's colors shrink from the waves as it sunk below the horizon. She turned the wheel when she felt like it, not totally sure if she knew where she was going. Something was drawing her to him, faint, but steady. It was the soul mate link, an unwanted stream that ran through both of them. Since it meant nothing to Valdis, Mari was also bent on paying it no attention. 

All she was going to do was talk to him. There were no feelings to cut off because that would need feelings to be there in the first place. She never cared about Valdis, he never cared about her, so the conversation she planned to have with him was going to be stilted, if he didn't send her away or kill her first.

__

Denial rambles on and on, doesn't it, her subconscious taunted viciously_. Dammit, stay subconscious; as in I don't hear you!_

But she would have to come up with an excuse other than closure to talk to him. There was always that small chance he would listen to her on what should be the happiest day of his life. Her mind went blank. Then came the memory of talking to herself or mother of killing him. Killing Valdis would solve many problems, but Mari knew if she showed up with a wooden stake she wouldn't get very far.

Absently, she began to hum the tune of the song that she tried to remember earlier. It was slow and was sure to be something about love. Mari liked to think her mother was a daydreamer and often thought about meeting her true love. Strange that a hooker would be thinking that, but Mari could always hope. Gwendolyn must have thought of finding "the one" at some point of her life. If she was alive, Mari would have told her finding the one wasn't what most women expected it to be. It wasn't all about having each other with never ending love, staying up all night talking to him, waking up wanting to see him, or going to sleep to dream about him. 

Finding "the one" was hell.

For the first time, Mari saw the island that must have been in view for fifteen minutes. In the cloudy night, it was invisible to the human eye. Only Night People and nocturnal animals could have seen the specks of light that came from the stone mansions that were buried deep in a dense forest. To her it was unreasonable for vampires to live in a forest. Remembering the captain's instructions, she parked, if that was the right term, the yacht at the end of the long dock and stepped onto the fore deck into the cool crisp night.

She wasn't dressed for a wedding reception, that was for sure. Even if she was in a dress no doubt it would be far too modern on a time warped island. And she had yet to make up a reason for seeing him. But deep down inside her, in the depths of her mind that she never knew existed or only existed just for him, she knew the true reason. 

Mari wanted to see him before he went off to the Final Battle and some how got himself killed. She wanted to argue over something stupid with him one last time. 

"Getting a little bit cheesy there," she told her self and leaned away from the railing. 

"I don't recall seeing you on the guest list," a voice cut in through the serenity of the waves' soft lapping. Inhaling a deep breath and turned to see Valdis.

It made her knees weak just too look at him. Normally she would have laughed at his fifteenth century clothes but the solemnity in his voice and the anger clearly written on his breath taking face stopped her. 

"Although I am sure that my mother would be thrilled to have a wild power at our wedding reception. She's a bit of a social climber." To her surprise her offered a gloved hand as she stepped off the yacht. She took it lightly and then snatched her hand back as soon as she steadied herself on the dock. He raised an eyebrow at that and faced her squarely.

"I had to talk to you. I felt this would be my last chance," she explained quietly, looking past him to the water. It would be easier for her to talk if she didn't look at his eyes.

"Really? By your parting words the last time we met, I was hoping you would come with a stake with my name written on it." Valdis was either terribly unhappy or drunk and making jokes.

"I wasn't thinking clearly at the time."

"Of course, you changing species and all, who wouldn't be nonplused? I must say, Mari dear, you haven't changed at all since we last met. Have you noticed?" The stranger she thought was Valdis sat down on the dock, where his feet almost touched the water.

"Chicken pox marks are no longer in existence," she contradicted him cautiously and sat a few inches from where he invited her to sit.

"Ah, yes I remember seeing those. There's one right under your…"

"Shut up," she snapped, furious at herself for blushing. Mari had no clue why they were sitting and teasing each other like old buddies. It made her feel better to hear Valdis when he wasn't angry about her existence.

"Yes, I guess that one disappeared. It was kind of shaped like a heart. Well, let's get this over with, this last meeting between soul mates. I don't want it to become too dramatic, do you?"

Mari felt the tiny hope that was building inside her collapse. She learned that Valdis could sound friendly and congenial yet still be cruel and insensitive. She made a vague agreeing motion with her head.

"Small talk, so it could be pleasant. Like 'The Way We Were' when they meet on the street and they have to be cordial to each other. Have you ever seen that movie?"

"No," she answered half heartedly. "Um, won't they miss you? After all there is a reception going on without you." Valdis dismissed that with a wave of his hand.

"Probably won't even notice I'm gone. They're better off actually, I would just ruin the wedding portraits with my dreary frown. It's all about politics you see. My family is just a bit higher up on the social ladder. Pearl Laurel will move up in the Night World society. She's already pregnant, you know." Valdis was strangely serene as he spoke, as if every thing was as is in the world.

His last words made her sick. "So you knew her before you were married?"

He gave a little laugh at that, as if recalling a prank gone wrong. "No. Pearl's a sweet girl really, almost perfect. But I can't overlook her nonexistent resistance to the sexual temptation that surrounded her. I'm sure by now every one who's worked for her has gotten a ride." He stopped smiling now, just staring down at the water. "My innocent little slut. Harlot. Tramp. Wench. Wanton." Valdis went on, but Mari couldn't recognize a few words. The other insulting names would have been understood in Shakespeare's time, but Mari couldn't even spell them.

"What is another word?" he asked miserably. Now this was a Valdis she could talk to. She hoped he would stay in his misery for the rest of the night. "I feel like it is terribly obvious." 

For once, Mari could understand it. He was held back by these chains that he could break, but because doing so would mean losing his whole world. She had read enough paperback romances from the Renaissance to understand. Mr. Shakespeare also showed how a simple rejection of one's proposed fate would destroy a life. Here Valdis was experiencing it. He was probably thinking, Who am I to object? Could it be so bad to have an arranged marriage? Mari knew the answer and she knew that he knew too. Of course it was bad; it was humiliating. To have a wife that didn't respect him and have his peers laughing at him because he didn't satisfy her. Mari hurt for him.

Valdis was still awaiting an answer. Instead Mari did the only thing that she could think of. Slowly, she unfolded her hands and reached out and held his. Through the thin leather she could feel warmth from his hand. Strange how she couldn't feel the cold but she could feel his warmth. After a moment, she felt Valdis' fingers close over her own.

Both were glad he had his gloves on. The last thing they needed was the soul mate link to ruin the first peaceful moment they shared together. Mari's fingers were pinched as he tightened his fingers. It was as if Mari was the only thing to keep him from drowning. What he didn't know was that Mari needed him the same way.

The pair were staring at their feet, Mari's much smaller and farther away from the ocean than his. Out of the corner of eye, Mari so his face and smiled. There was something about seeing a man's face in complete darkness. For most women, that would be difficult unless they had the unnatural powers the Night Women had. 

Valdis was not in the least obscured. With her eyes, Mari could see his well muscled, but not so muscled so that it was sickening, body and his stunning face. Before when she thought his looks were not as exotic as the other vampires. By being in a world so used to strange and dazzling colors, having his cruelly beautiful, and some would say "normal" coloring made him a rare prize. 

His proud, usually frowning lips were still frowning but seemed to soften a bit. His eyes, which switched from electric blue to pale green with whatever was around him, were hooded and the ever rolling storm in them seemed to quiet down. 

Lost in her thoughts, Mari smiled, just a little. She couldn't help it, having these mushy thoughts about the man she planned to kill days earlier. Mari didn't have to worry about hearing his thoughts, or him hearing hers. Shields took care of that. 

Despite the tiny bit of annoyance at the thought of soulmates having shields with each other, Mari never lost her-head-in-the-clouds smile. Valdis looked at _her_ out of the corner of his eye and caught it. He turned his head so that he could see her better. After several heart beats, he returned the smile, slowly and maybe amusedly.

But then he noticed something. Mari had no clue what, but she knew his expression darkened the moment he met her eyes. Violently, he let go and threw her hand at her and stood up, making her feel vulnerably small.

"Whore," he growled through clenched teeth. Mari sat, staring up at him. She shook herself free of the strange trance he caused and stood up to meet his eyes better. Before she could speak, he continued harshly.

"That's the word, what my wife is. It seems that now we are both accustomed to them." Valdis was being utterly baneful. Mari stopped her unnecessary breathing. At a sluggish rate, his words and their meanings sunk in, making her visibly shake with fiery anger.

"What gives you the right?" Mari asked, her voice trembling with barely leashed rage. It was fighting its way out, only to find her skin as its barrier, making her whole body quake uncontrollably. "What gives you the right to be this way?"

Valdis laughed. He had the audacity to laugh at her, his velvety, scornful chuckles filling the stiff silence. "Right? I don't need a right to be the way I am, Mari."

"That's not what I meant. This," she said, pulling off his gloves and holding his hands in the blink of an eye, "is what I meant."

Mari was plunged head first into his thoughts. She didn't bother to feel them, she let them swim over and around her as she forced him to meet her. "How did you become to be like this?" she asked, letting her appalled feelings for him crash into him. "You've had two loving parents, three older kind and protective brothers, and yet you end up being so evil. Too weak a word, I know, but I'd rather not fill this hell hole with more profane thoughts." Mari no longer cared about his chiseled features or the pitiful problem he was in. She threw a cursory glance at the memories as they floated past her. "How can people put up with you? How could have a person as sweet and caring as you mother bore such a malevolent damnation such as you? She should have killed you at birth, it would have been a kind thing to do for the world."

Just as she hoped, Mari felt the searing pain that ran through him as he listened. It didn't matter if she felt the same pain, because the pleasure of hurting him made up for it. Nobody insulted her mother, _nobody_. "It's a comical tragedy, your life. Killing this person, that person, putting on that show of belligerency to cover up the wretched boy hiding behind it. A child would laugh at your attempts of toughness," she sneered mercilessly. 

Mari couldn't bear the thought of leaving him untouched, he had to be punished. 

But Valdis could take only so much from his nemesis. "At my attempts? Look at you. But you can't, you can't see yourself. That shell, that ugly shell, has caked over you so much it's impossible to get back the real you." Tendrils from his mind wrapped around her, drawing her closer to the pain. 

"When I look at you all that's there is this wretched mask that covers up that stupid vermin underneath. That's all you are because that's all what you ever wish you were. Because you sink to their level, you become their equals. Well, you're not their equal. You never will be again. You're _my_ equal!" The already unstable atmosphere quaked, threatening to drown them both. Valdis' words were a burning knife in her heart, making her stumble back from him. 

The earlier intent of torturing him was immediately forgotten. Mari wrenched her sweaty palms out of his hands. But he didn't want to stop. A rough hand darted out as quick as a snake and clamped around her neck. Once again Mari was plunged and washed away to Valdis.

"You're equal to me, to the other Night World people. But it was a mistake changing you because you're too weak. The only thing that's keeping you from killing yourself is me and your mother." Mari tried to pull away and remember she'd only fed the other night and that wasn't enough to fight him. His stabbing words were pounding into her head. "The disgusting prostitute you call your mother has more worth than you could achieve in your life time. Think about it, Mari, do you mean anything to any one? Hunter amuses you for his sake, the Daybreakers are sick of your games, you were a mistake to your mother, and your father didn't even know about your existence. 

"What else? The adoptive family was ashamed of you and your looks. And I, your _soul mate,_ don't give a shit about you! And you call me pathetic? You, of all people, say I am a damnation. People care about me, Mari. Can you honestly say the same thing?" He pushed her away with such a savage force that she almost fell in the water.

To her surprise, she didn't even feel like crying. It would be a waste to cry tears over him. "I used to think that the reason you act the way you do was because you thought it was honorable in a vampire's eyes. That it was your duty to keep the humans in line, because you thought you were doing the right thing. But that's all just bull shit, isn't it? There is no reason for your behavior, there is no reason for the way you life your life."

_For fun_, he told her mentally, the virulent force of his thoughts hurting her mind again. "There is no _good_ reason," she corrected herself.

"Leave. I mean it, before I hurt you."

"It's too late for that!" Mari cried, the hurt and anger evident in her voice. She controlled herself, she didn't want to show him that she took his insults to heart. "You don't exactly have a gentle touch," she said, her voice impersonal and cool as she rubbed her neck for show.

"Gentle with gentle people. Like Pearl." 

"I do hope you manage to get an appointment so that you will have children of your own. Women like your wife are busy, you'll see." She turned to him looking straight into his eyes, unable to stop her mouth. "What kind of freak are you, not even good enough to give good sex to a nymphomaniac, who should be satisfied with a toothbrush?" 

He backhanded her the split second she paused. Her head whipped to the side, tears coming but she made them leave just as soon. How dare he do that? True they had meant to hurt each other, but she never thought physically.

"I know how to handle her, just as I handled you now. I can't believe they screwed this up. How could anybody think we would be soulmates? I want obedience and compliance in the women around me, all women. Those who don't learn, are punished," he said coldly, and rather satisfied with himself.

"I hope," she said, her voice dangerously hollow, "you don't have plans to have any kids." She kneed him the groin, and grimaced, knowing she hit her target. It wasn't enough. As he stumbled away, she gave a little, but powerful, snap kick to his groin again, to make his expression show more pain than hers did. While he was still down, she turned away.

"Leave now." He was sprawled face down on the dock.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Mari seemed to be reduced to snappish tones and nothing else. Valdis waited on the dock until the yacht was miles away from him. With her flawless eyes, she met his gaze when he sat up steadily until he turned his back to her and stood, after some difficulty, and walked away.

"Good bye," she heard him mutter under his breath. 

"Good bye," she whispered back.

~*~*~*~

December 2, 1999

Mari's apartment

"You what?" Hunter sounded only mildly surprised.

"It was an accident. I have no idea where that other yacht came from," she said. She had been sitting on her couch and staring at the painting he sent her for hours until she finally decided to tell him. She wasn't afraid. It would take a lot more than Hunter to make her afraid. 

"Who was on the other yacht?"

"Don't worry about it. Just a vampire couple." Who were talking about what a cute couple Valdis and Pearl made. "And once they found out who I am, they even made it sound like it was their fault."

"How did they hit you?"

"Weren't you listening? I hit them. They were anchored and I accidentally," _casu consulto_ "hit them. It's no big deal."

"Let me get this straight. In the vast ocean that happens to be void of any confining roads, you collide with a yacht, which I presume is in equal in size of my own. It was staying still. Still. It was not moving."

"I think we covered that definition."

"You were unable to sail around it because…?"

"I didn't see it. You're not going to take away the car are you?"

"No, I have hundreds on end. Good bye."

Mari sat back on her white leather couch and stared at the painting. It had two lovers trying desperately to stay together. They're hands were straining toward each other, but one the girl's side sunlight and clouds were dragging her away and on the man's side the moon and stars were pulling him away. They would forever being reaching out toward each other, but never meet.

"What the hell were you thinking when you sent this to me?" she yelled to a Hunter who couldn't hear him and threw the cell phone at it. Then she calmed down and watched silently as the cracks began to spread like a web over the doomed lovers faces.

~*~*~*~

December 4, 1999

Briar Creek, Oregon

"I'm coming!" Mary Lynette ducked under her bed and groped blindly for her gloves. It was already ten thirty and Rowan told her to be at their house at ten.

"I'm leaving," her brother threatened. 

"I'm coming!" she yelled again. "Aha!" She scrambled from under her bed and pulled on one yellow glove and one green. She frowned at the sight of her mismatched hand and the looked at her mirror. Some strands of her brown hair floated, the static caused by the friction from the under side of her bed and her blue eyes were unnaturally happy. "Mark! Mark, wait."

He was sitting calmly on the couch when she came down. "What took so long?"

"Just had to find my gloves. Come on let's go," she hurried, dragging him to the door. "Claud, we're going to the sisters for a while! Bye."

"Bye! Be back by um…twelve thirty! I wouldn't want you to get stuck at the Redfern's if the storm popped up tonight.

"Kay," Mark called.

"You do realize that you have two different gloves on, right?" Mark asked as they walked in a fast pace to the Redfern's home.

"Yeah." After that they didn't talk. It was too windy and cold. Old Mr. Hank at the air conditioner and space heater store said that there was going to be a storm brewing soon. Maybe this was it. In a silent understanding, they slowed their pace as soon as the house was in view.

"Did he say why he was coming?" he asked after a while, words faded by the wind.

"He said he needed to be with me. I suppose that's part of the truth any way."

Mark nodded. Mary Lynette sighed, thinking about her brother. Mark wasn't sure what to think of Ash. He liked that Ash made her happy when he visited, and then he hated him when he left her. And he didn't trust him, Mary Lynette wasn't the only one who could see that.

"What was that sigh for?"

She shrugged. "Just thinking about stuff." Mary Lynette forgot about that problem. She used to tell Mark whatever was on her mind, but she just couldn't describe some things to him now. It would be just too weird to talk to him about Ash. Mark knew that too, but it still bothered them both when she evaded questions like that.

Jade greeted them at the door. "Hey guys, watch out for that hole." Mary Lynette had no idea why she said that; after all, who could miss it? They always put the task of fixing it off, so instead they put a nice welcome rug over it that said _How long are you going to stand there?_

She ushered them into the living room, where Rowan's friend was talking. One Patrick White, a sophomore in Mary Lynette's college who, in her opinion, thought far too highly of himself. Patrick went to the same high school she did, but she only remembered him as the snobby upperclassman who wouldn't have noticed her if she bit him. Unfortunately, he noticed her in college and, like her, went home early for the Christmas vacation. The boy was convinced it would only be a matter of time before Mary Lynette gave in to his "charms."

But he was also dependable, honest (sometimes too honest), and Rowan trusted him completely. In short, Mary had to put up with him. She was surprised when Rowan once said that she found his advances toward Mary Lynette amusing.

"Hello Mary Lynette," he drawled, purposely making his voice husky. She rolled her eyes and gave a wave. She crossed the room and sat on the couch, making them a room apart. Patrick decided to sit next to her.

"Ash is coming soon," she said haughtily. And she hoped that she was telling the truth. Rowan told her that he might be running late, possibly even coming the next day.

"And how long is he staying?" _Oh Patrick I hope Ash beats the crap out of you_, she couldn't help thinking. He was looking at her, probably didn't notice she was wearing her favorite blue sweater and jeans; his eyes looked as if they had x ray vision. Patrick would stop ogling her once he met her soul mate.

"That's undecided. I can't wait till you meet him, Patrick. You'll get a kick out of him." Literally.

"Well, we do share the same interest." He scooted over, and she scooted over, until she met the arm rest and had no where to go. Mary Lynette saw Rowan smiling as she left the room.

"Mutilating morons who hit on his girl friend? Because he does that, you know." Mary wished that Ash was there to prove her point.

"I don't have a girl friend…yet." Mary Lynette looked around the room to see if any one cared to stop him. There was Jade and Mark on the ottoman, Rowan checking Patrick's work on the floor, Kestrel reading some ancient looking book and…

It was at that time when they heard a short _zzzz_ and the lights went out. The sisters had no trouble seeing and she could hear Kestrel move to the kitchen. Mary Lynette tried to follow her and ended up banging her knee against the coffee table. 

Kestrel yelled, "There's no candles in the cup boards."

"You haven't bought any, you don't need them," Mary Lynette muttered. In the darkness she could only hear people moving around her and guessed that some people moved upstairs to find some candles. She hoped that Patrick was one of them and fell down the stairs, breaking both arms so that he wouldn't try to touch her.

She felt a warm arm hook around her waist. Then again Patrick may have stayed down stairs. "Patrick, if that is your disgusting hand touching me, I am going to chop it off and serve it to you a la flambe. Understand?"

Much faster than Patrick could ever be, the person behind her spun her around and kissed her. All too soon, the lips pulled away. "Um…I thought that…because he was…never mind." She pulled Ash back to her lips. Again, he pulled away sooner than she wanted him too.

"Who's Patrick?"

"Guy. Guy who was here. He's a guy." Before she could kiss him again, Ash brought her to the ottoman and pulled her into his lap.

"Oh he's a guy? Couldn't figure that one out. Guess how long I'm staying."

Mary Lynette couldn't see his face, but she could tell he was smiling. "Forever?"

"If I can. I know seeing me every summer and winter isn't enough, but apparently being in Circle Daybreak means I have to go on missions. Who would have thought?" 

"Did you set this up? Lights going out, making every body leave the room…"

"Nope. But it was all very convenient. I forgot to get gas before I got here and with the snow storm coming, I went as fast as I could to get here. And of course with my luck, it ran out and I had to run here." He stopped talking and then they just sat and thought together, Mary Lynette couldn't tell how long. It felt like there was no time in their minds, as if just holding each other could carry through the years. Nobody came down to check on them, she supposed they were still looking for those silly candles.

After an eternity, Mary Lynette felt him look at some one. "Hey Jade, go down to the basement and replace a fuse in the fuse box."

"You just got here and you're already bossing people around," his sister said, but Mary Lynette guessed she left when it stayed silent. Two seconds later, Mary Lynette heard the same _zzzz _noise they heard earlier and saw Ash's grinning face. 

The sisters were the first to return to the living room, and then Mark and Patrick came walking down the stairs. "That's Patrick," she whispered very close to Ash's ear. "Maim him for me." Ash laughed aloud, making Patrick finally notice him.

"Hi," Ash greeted him in a friendly voice. Since Ash didn't couldn't get up with Mary Lynnette in his lap, Patrick had to walk over and shake Ash's offered hand. "I take it your Patrick?"

"Yeah, Patrick White. I guess your Mary Lynette's Ash." She was glad to see that Patrick lost all his arrogance in Ash's presence. Clearly he wasn't entirely too happy of her position in Ash's lap. Neither was Mark.

"You know Mare, there's enough room for you to sit beside him. No need to burden Ash…"

"She's as light as a feather," Ash cut off cheerfully and then kissed Mary Lynette's nose lightly. 

Then he turned to Patrick, who had an obviously jealous expression on his boyish face. "Don't you have some where to go?" At first Mary Lynette thought he was being rude, but Patrick simply nodded and walked out the door without so much as a good bye.

"Mind control," Mark muttered disgustedly. Only he and Rowan seemed to be bothered by Ash's action.

"Hey," Mary Lynette said brightly. "Make him streak around town!"

"Do that in the summer when he won't freeze to death," Kestrel suggested coolly. The sisters found themselves a seat on the couch. Mark had the floor.

"What's going on?" Jade asked. The sisters always asked Ash about the Final Battle and what actions were being taken.

"The Final Battle is going to be on the Damned Clan Island. Man to man combat for those who know how to fight. We have all of the witches on our side and about less than half of the shape shifters. The other half, some would say the smarter half, is going to fight with Redfern and about a hundred other dragons," he informed them. By his tone, Mary Lynette guessed dragons were bad things. 

"What happened to the fourth wild power?" Mark asked. He wasn't as nearly as up to date as his sister.

"Went back to Hunter. Where have you been?" Ash exclaimed exaggeratedly. 

Mark took it to heart. "Mary Lynette doesn't exactly tell me everything you guys talk about," he snapped defensively. Ash raised his eye brows, but kept his mouth shut.

"You say any one who fights can go to this island?" It was clear what Kestrel had in mind. 

"You can't go," Jade protested. "You might get killed!"

"Of course, Jade, it is a battle after all. Who are you to tell me what I cannot do?" Despite her spiteful voice, Kestrel her sister's concern touched her. Then Ash spoke.

"Of course you won't go. I won't let you." Kestrel sighed. She hated it when Ash got that macho man, head of the house hold voice. 

"It is Kestrel's choice," Rowan spoke up softly.

"Well, it's a stupid choice," Mary Lynette snapped. She wasn't exactly too fond of Kestrel, but she didn't want her to die.

"That's all a matter of opinion," Kestrel corrected. "We'll talk about this tomorrow. I have a week or two before I leave."

"The hell you do!" It had become a custom that Ash and Kestrel fought whenever he came to visit. But this time it seemed to be worse than last summer, when they actually fought each other to the ground. Ash was yelling so loud Mary Lynette slid off of his lap so that he wouldn't be so close to her ear.

He didn't notice, just stood up to loom over Kestrel.

"You're not going to tell me what to do…"

"I'll call Thierry, he'll tell you not to go…"

"Well, if you won't go…"

"Father will kill me if he finds out that I let you…"

Mary Lynette looked back and forth from Kestrel and Ash. She felt like she was intruding on family business. And from Mark's nervous gestures, she could tell her brother felt the same.

Rowan was trying to cut in. "If you're going to fight could you please do it in a calm manner so that…"

"Kestrel, did you hear me when I said dragons? DRAGONS! And the odds are it's five or more Night Worlder to each Day breaker. And how long has it been since you've fought some one?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kestrel's voice became eerily calm when he said that.

"You might have become…well, maybe you're not ready to fight."

"I've fought before."

"With what, a three legged dog?"

"As a matter of fact, it just so happens…" It was at that point when she lunged at Ash. Mary Lynette barely had enough time to jump out of the way when they crashed into the ottoman. Rowan, Jade, Mark, and Mary Lynette silently watched them for a few minutes, then ten, then twenty, until Jade spoke quietly.

"Ash shouldn't have said that. Nobody questions Kestrel's fighting ability." Mary Lynette and Mark somberly nodded in agreement.

Ash pinned Kestrel on the floor, which was how he won the last fight. She met his eyes, which were now a startling black. Kestrel looked over at Mary Lynette and gave a sudden smile. She pushed herself down from under him and kicked him in the knees. Then she pushed him off and landed a hard one in his stomach.

It looked like Ash couldn't decided whether to hold his stomach or his knees. He knew he was lucky, Kestrel wasn't really trying to hurt him. 

"This was sort of an example of how siblings fight each other, training for real life. Like baby wolves," Jade chirped, not at all disturbed by the brawl.

Kestrel stood over Ash and, without saying a gloating word or sending a bragging thought, held out her hand. With a dark look, he accepted it and she helped him up.

"A few years ago, I wouldn't have been able to done that. We'll discuss this tomorrow." And nobody said a word to object.

~*~*~*~

December 12, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

"They said yes!" Even through the phone, Delos could see Maggie's beautiful smile. He laid back in his bed, and began folding a piece of paper he found under his bed. Delos always had to keep his hands busy when Maggie went back home.

"Are you sure I won't be intruding? I know Christmas is a family time…"

She sighed, making static in his ear. "Delos, my family has been dying to have you over since last summer. After all, you only met them once before and two weeks aren't nearly enough. Besides, Christmas isn't the only time I'll need you. I have my Winter Ball, remember?"

"When is that?" he asked, naturally depressed at the prospect of milling around in an uncomfortable tuxedo for four hours.

"December twentieth. When are you going to leave?"

"Tomorrow. And, after Christmas in the Neely household, I'll leave for the island December twenty sixth. How is Miles?" There was pause. A _long_ pause. "Maggie?"

"He told Mom and Dad yesterday."

"Told them what?" Delos guessed the paper was forming into some kind of flower; that or an ornately folded ball of paper.

"He told them that occasionally he sprouts wings so he could go to the mall. Yup," she said when he didn't answer, "jumped right outta the shifter closet." 

It was his turn to pause. But he didn't want to draw it out. "How did they take it?"

"Well, first they were laughing like crazy. Then, when Miles kept telling them it was true, they thought he was crazy. When _I_ told them it was true, they thought both of us had gone nuts. Dad was ready to call the medical help he thought we needed when Miles played show and tell."

Delos laughed. Maggie always made the most serious of situations comical.

"Then they just had to believe us. Problem was, Mom started thinking she passed some deformed gene down to him and was afraid I was going to catch it. As if being a hawk was contagious!"

Delos looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "So what did you tell them?"

"Weeeeeeell…he told them what how it happened. He told them about Sylvia, and I told them about meeting you and consequently…"

Delos finished for her. "They know I'm a vampire. I thought you said they've been dying for my visit?"

"They are," she quickly assured. "They're just going to look at you in a whole new light. Delos…it's not like they're afraid or disgusted with you or anything. Curious maybe, but just because they know you're a vampire doesn't mean they're going to treat you like a freak. Otherwise, Miles would be in the streets right now."

Delos didn't really know her parents, so he couldn't really argue. "You know better than I do."

"Of course I do. Hold on wait." Delos knew that meant somebody was going to get her off the phone somehow, it was the only way to make her stop. "Miles has to call a girl. Her name is Cassia," she whispered in a scandalous voice. In the back round, Delos heard Miles yelling at her. 

Delos didn't blame him, they'd been talking for three hours. "Give me all the details about his new girl later."

"All right, oh wait I can't. Dad says I've been talking too much on the phone, so he's limited me to two calls a day."

"That's okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."

"Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Bye."

Delos hung up. He rose from the bed, and walked to the closet. He supposed spending time with Morgead has influenced him, because the floor of the closet was completely covered with dirty laundry. Morgead's pile was much taller though. 

"Hey, Delly."

"Hello Jezebel."

"It's Jez."

"Well then, it's Delos. Is there anything you need?" Delos decided everything on the hangers were clean and began to throw the shirts into the suitcase on his bed.

"I came here to tell you that you can't use that suit case."

Delos took all of his clothes in his arms, walked over to the suitcase, and dumped it all in. "Why not?"

She walked over to him. "Because when you zip it up like so and then carry it like this," she held it up by the handle. The zipper suddenly broke loose and all his clothes came tumbling out. "The front part can't handle it. I came over to tell you that you could use mine or Morgead's."

"Hmm, let me think. Yours, the white one with red and pink roses over it, or Morgead's simple, black one. It's just so hard to decide…" Jez made a face at him.

"Okay, he said you could get it in his closet." Delos gathered his clothes from the floor and listened to Jez's footsteps down the empty hall. Just a few weeks earlier, he couldn't listen to hers without hearing half a dozen other friends walk down the hall. But more and more of the Daybreakers were leaving recently, leaving Las Vegas to go to some quaint little town where their family lived. The last good byes. Delos wasn't doing exactly the same thing, but he was hoping to become part of a family once he left the Neely's. 

"Delos." He turned at the soft voice and crossed the room to kiss Hannah's hand. She was, after all, the Lady of the mansion and deserved the respect a woman of authority. Delos couldn't understand why the other men didn't do the same.

"Lady Hannah," he said formally but warmly.

Hannah opened her mouth, and Delos expected her to protest at his address, but she seemed to be concerned with something else. "Delos, may I speak with you for a moment?" He nodded.

"About the Final Battle," she started as she sat down on his bed. "I know that Thierry said that those with fighting experience are the only ones allowed to go…"

"For a good reason," he cut in.

"I have to. You don't understand, if I could just get to Mari…"

"She'd kill you in a snap. Lady Hannah, she didn't cooperate when she was with us, why the hell would she cooperate when she's with the enemy?"

Hannah waved her hand in the air as if sweeping all reason he just told her out of the way. "But, if I could just talk to her for a moment …"

"What will you do? Now, mind you, I'm just humoring a hopelessly hopeful woman."

"Talk to her. Not just talk to her, but…talk. Oh, you just don't understand!" Hannah exclaimed impatiently when Delos kept the "humoring the hopelessly hopeful woman" look.

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You think you're going to have a little chat with the sweet Mari while our people get slaughtered. Listen, I know you think the best of people, and you may even think that everybody has a little good in themselves. But not everybody does. And even if Mari did have that irritating conscience in her mind, it died when Dorian betrayed her."

Hannah almost believed him. Delos knew everything about logic, psychology, and analyzing people and their situations. Because of his upbringing as a weapon, his mind as sharp as a honed knife. Ninety nine percent of the time he was correct about those matters. But not this time.

"Delos, you can look at her hand and tell me about her breakfast. You could tell me about her whole life in two seconds. But what you can't do is tell me what's going on in her mind. Nobody has any idea why she's hiding all the time." 

_Damn_, he thought. _She's using that Old Soul wisdom trickery thing._ "Hiding?"

"Don't you see it? If I could just talk to her, or even for just five minutes, maybe I could understand. I want to understand her, Delos. Mari can't even figure out for herself what's making herself so miserable."

"How would you know that? Maybe something's made her change. Every day, Night World citizens go to the Day World and there are those humans who go to the Night World. Mari Tybal first came to the Night World, and she's going to stay with them."

"Delos, have an open mind…"

"I can't. Looking at everything's that happened…" He threw up his arms, not finishing the sentence. Delos wasn't angry, he never got angry with Hannah, but as always there was that sense of despair at the world.

"Delos, please help me. I know Jez won't help me because she is more stubborn than you. Iliana would be too afraid. I need you, not as a wild power, as a friend. Please help me."

For the briefest of moments, Delos appeared torn, making Hannah hope just a little bit. "But if you die, Thierry…"

"Thierry would accept my death, and wait patiently for my rebirth. True, he would experience grief…"

"I don't want to cause that grief," he interrupted gruffly.

"You won't, I will. Delos, if you're going to help me, we're wasting time now. And if you're not, then I'll find a way. If there's one thing I got, it's determination."

Delos thought. He sat so still, Hannah, if she were a stranger, would mistake him for a well painted statue. 

"Let me here your proposal, and I'll think about it."

~*~*~*~

December 13, 1999

Mari's apartment

Thirteen days. It had been thirteen days since she last spoke with him. She had concluded and contradicted herself at who was at fault, but looking at all the facts, Mari knew it was herself. She, after all, had sought him out. And with each passing day, she wasn't certain if her emotions was healing or deteriorating. When Mari returned to the mainland, she was simply livid. Not thinking clearly at all, she drove every which way until dawn. By some miracle, she found her way back home and slept. Then all she did was sit and think, going out only when she was on the verge of blood lust. 

Every word that had been spoken that night was painful, but true. Neither of them wanted to admit it. In a sense, Mari did sometimes consider herself equal to humans and above vampires. But what he said about her mother…Mari would never become accustomed to that. It seemed impossible that the gentle, loving woman in her memories would sell her body to strangers. 

Hunter had worried she was becoming withdrawn and had literally bought her a friend. Brooke something, who Mari guessed was brought embarrassment to the family one way or another and becoming her friend was the only way to climb her way up on the social ladder. Each time the bubbly, yet artificial red head tried to call or visit, Mari always brushed her off, not at all bothering with the proper etiquette. 

The phone rang. Lying idly on the bed, Mari decided to let the machine take it, as it had done to the other phone calls. After a series of beeps, Hunter voice filled the still room.

"Mari, I learned from your friend, Brooke Willow, that you are having problems. What happened? You never answer any calls, and the last I heard from Brooke is that you dismissed her a week ago. For all I know, I could be talking to your mummified corpse. At least pick up the phone so that I'll know you're alive. After all…"

Mari swiftly rose from the bed and threw the phone across the room, the cord unplugging with it. That ought to show him she was still alive.

Maybe she wouldn't die on January the second. She planned to die at the Final Battle. Originally, she wanted to do so before, maybe on the plane or boat, but then she remembered she was going to be surrounded by at least a dozen guards. Hunter wanted a thrilling performance to be remembered as the Night World victory. Mari was nothing but a prop. 

Nevertheless, the warriors were going to see a show, that was certain. Some people, many of those wise, would say suicide was a coward's death, that it was giving up on life. Mari believed it wasn't cowardly or defeat at all, for she had died long before she ever knew about the Night World. The warriors, those valiant and those malicious, were going to have the best seat to the end of the Day World.

~*~*~*~

December 16, 1999

Los Angeles, California

"BOO!" Poppy jumped out of the closet.

Phil simply looked at her and slowly raised his arms. "Ah."

"Oh you're no fun," she pulled him into the living room. "James, Philip has arrived," she called in her best imitation of Nilsson.

James emerged from his bed room, pulling on a shirt. When she turned to her brother, she saw his eye brows were raised. Maybe it looked like they…

"James spilled coke on his shirt just before you came."

"_You_ spilled it on me. Hi Phillip," he said offering a hand. Her brother eyed it and then shook his hand briefly. Even after all this time, Phil was still a…

"Dork," she finished out loud. "You going to stay for dinner?" Poppy asked.

"What are you having?" he asked, sitting on the couch.

"I'm making pizza," she called, skipping to the kitchen. James sat in the comfy chair across from him.

"She's ordering pizza," James corrected. Phil nodded. As always, an awkward silence filled the room when Poppy left them alone. Both knew how long Poppy took when ordering a pizza, she always tried to get something everybody wanted.

"So…where is this island?"

"Near Iceland. I can't stop Poppy from going," he added miserably, knowing where the conversation was going to end up.

"I don't want her killed, James," Phil warned him. 

"You think I want that? Believe me I've tried everything to make her stay at the mansion, but it seems your sister has a silver tongue when it came to asking Thierry about this."

Phil gave a wry smile at that. "Let's gag her and lock her in some basement," he suggested. 

He was only half joking. Here, his little sister was going to fight a battle that would determine the fate of the world in the new millennium, and he was going to sit at home and twiddle his thumbs. Phil was used to being the stronger one, the athlete. _He _should be the one trying to protect Poppy, because she was supposed to be a delicate little girl, full of happiness, sunshine, and all the other mushy stuff older brothers thought of little sisters. Her twinkling green eyes were like a child's to him, and they weren't meant to see all the carnage and blood of war. But Phil had no way to intervene. And Poppy was a _little_ bit different than the girl he grew up with.

As if reading his thoughts, but Phil knew James wouldn't dare, Poppy's soul mate sighed aloud, "I can't let her see that, Phil. All the gore, and dying people right in front of her…she's just not used it. But what if she does get used to it? I can't imagine Poppy being ruthless and murderous."

"How was she able to convince Thierry if everybody knows that she's not a killer?"

James concentrated for a moment, trying to remember the conversation. "She may not be a killer, but she can defend herself. It's instinctive. She…"

"Are you guys talking about me again?" Poppy swept into the room and sat on the floor. Despite the seriousness of the matter, a tiny smile still played on her lips, as if it were a permanent condition. "Look," she began, losing the good humor. "I know you guys think that I'm…well, not weak, really, but in a way, that's exactly what you think I am. That I'm just this little angel, too gentle for all this fighting. But it would just be torture for me to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs (no offense Phil I'm sure you'd do more) while my soul mate is out fighting for my whole former species? It's like Superman, he saves people because he has the power to. He uses his faster-than-a speeding-bullet speed to save people because…um…what else would he use his power to?"

Phil gave her a look, wavering between stern and amused. Then he turned to James. "Is that what she said to convince Thierry?"

James smiled. "Hmm, something along those lines, except with bigger words and she left the man of iron out."

"Steel," she and Phil corrected simultaneously. Poppy gave a tinkly laugh, and tossed back her red hair. James had to smile.

Poppy looked around, taking in the cozy sight of three young beautiful people just hanging out. "We ought to be models. Or a band, after all you can't go wrong with our looks. We'd be…um…Super Band!" James laughed harder and Phil put his smiling face in his hands.

"That's a great idea," Phil commented smoothly. "If we survive New Year's Eve, let's hire a manager and publicist."

"We wouldn't be able to afford one. Thierry would have to loan us some money," James added. Poppy stood up.

"Sometimes I think you guys don't ever take me seriously. And what do you mean 'if we survive'? Of course we'll survive, you got to think positive idiot." She walked over to the couch and punched her brother in the arm. He winced.

"Hey!" Poppy began brightly.

"Hey!" Phil mocked her.

"What did you get me for Christmas?"

"Bubble wrap. And James here got you tissue paper."

"Ha. Ha. Is that a joke or is it a clue? Does that mean you got me something fragile?" Once again, she caused the men to laugh.

The buzzer rang. Poppy left them to go to the intercom and pressed a button. "Who is it?" she asked in her deepest voice.

"Pizza delivery," a boy answered. To her, he sounded fifteen-ish.

"What are you trying to pull? Did Roselli send you? We didn't order any pizza, punk. Don't think you're gonna come up here and get me with you caliber um thing, I know better. I've got a big machine gun up here and I'm not afraid to use it…" She felt a strong arm loop around her waist and was carried so that she was behind James.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" the boy pleaded.

"Sorry about that. I have a slightly crazy girl here and she gets a little bit carried away. Big fan of the Godfather movies and then she tries to create a bit of her own mobster problems, you know the type. Come on up, we don't have any sort of artillery up here." James pushed the button.

"Um," the boy answered, his voice squeaking. "Um, right away sir." 

James turned to Poppy. "What?" she asked innocently, looking up at him. Since James didn't have the heart to scold her, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

She gave a _whoop_. "I thought they stopped this in the Ice Age," she said, struggling to get out his hold. Poppy gave another little shout when James threw her on the couch next to Phil, who only looked slightly interested.

"Your sister's nothing but trouble, Phil." There was a knock and James went to get the door.

"You think I haven't learned that already?" Phil called. Poppy crossed her arms across her chest, sunk lower in the couch, and stuck her tongue out at Phil. He calmly gave a cool, bored stare until she turned away.

"Here is half pepperoni and half sausage large pizza," James announced as he came into the living room for a second. He went into the kitchen and returned with three paper plates.

"Can you believe that some people just like cheese?" Phil asked, mouth full.

"Like who?"

"Mari ate cheese only pizza," Poppy pointed out. For a moment, James' gray eyes darkened.

"Really" Phil murmured. He didn't know much about the subject, only that she had earned the trust of virtually everybody in Circle Daybreak and then betrayed them.

"Oh, well we know how Mari is, fickle. One day she likes cheese, another she likes veggie, one day she's with Circle Daybreak, the next she's with the Night World. Fickle," James said lightly.

"Hey now, that's not fair. I don't think Mari's the type to be wishy washy. I'm sure something important changed her mind."

"Time to change the subject," Phil said abruptly after a long, quiet moment. Poppy shrugged and continued to devour her pizza slice.

Phil and James kept up the small talk while Poppy ate and thought. Mari must have had a good reason to leave them, and Poppy respected that. Mari wasn't stupid and she wasn't easily persuaded so she must have gone to the Night World on her own free will. But all of that didn't matter to Poppy.

Poppy thought of Mari as friend. An indifferent, sarcastic friend, but a friend nonetheless. And she always thought of herself as Mari's friend. The event of Dorian's betrayal and then Mari's made Poppy a little sad. Poppy had accepted Mari and Dorian with open arms, which showed how gullible she was. Poppy hoped she wouldn't be so easily fooled in the Final Battle.

~*~*~*~

December 19, 1999

On a mountain somewhere in Canada 

Keller silently slipped from under Galen's arm and crept out of bed. After putting on a robe, she tip toed lightly to the living room and started towards the fire place, where the fire had long died out, but stopped when she passed the front window.

Gleaming snow, twinkling as if glitter had been tossed on it, powdered the trees and the neighboring mountains. Pink and purples hues were rising on the east, foretelling the arrival the sun, whose heat would be futile in the frozen paradise. Keller leaned further to the window, until her nose pressed against the frost laced window. Her eyes narrowed so that she could study the delicate and intricate designs on the glass, hand painted by Jack Frost himself.

She had no inkling how long she simply stood there, eyes moving from the window to the breath taking view outside the window, because such tranquillity made seconds stretch for an eternity. Like tendrils of her warm fuzzy thoughts, arm closed around her from behind, bring her from one comforting thought to another.

"If you keep crossing your eyes, your face will freeze like that," her husband whispered very softly in her ear, not wanting to disturb the peace. It felt wonderful to think of Galen not just as a boyfriend, and a soul mate…he was now her husband. Light as butterfly wings and warmer than the sun or anybody else could be, Keller felt his sweet lips press against her hair and then her cheek.

The cabin, the snow, and the presence of her husband were Keller's definition of heaven. Never before had she ever felt such bliss and contentment, so copious that she would forget time and the rest of the world for days at a time. They spent the nights huddled in front of the fire and Keller could barely remember how they spent their days.

Sadly, it could only last for seven more days. Hearing her thoughts, Galen drew his arms tighter. "Let's not think about that, okay? Look, I built the fire," he whispered. Keller was about to turn when she saw a movement in the shadows of the trees.

"Galen, look over there." Keller made the mistake of turning her head towards him. When she turned back, there was no sign of life at all.

"Where?" There was a loud knock at the door. Keller pressed the window open and cautiously peeked outside.

"Hate to crash the newly weds' haven, but this has got to be cut short."

"Nissa," Galen greeted her at the door. "You're just the bearer of bad news aren't you?"

"It's written all over her face," Keller mumbled and made herself cozy next to Galen on the rug in front of the crackling fire, their favorite spot. Nissa seated herself on the overstuffed love seat in front of them, arms, and legs crossed. 

"Nissa, I'm not in the mood to be mad at you right now, so lose that apologetic face and spill it." Keller never knew she could ever feel this calm, to the point where she didn't get mad when she had every right to be.

"Hunter is playing fair, you guys know that. But we learned recently that a renegade group isn't. At exactly twelve o'clock p.m. on December thirty first, a massacre will begin on the west coast and if they're not stopped, they'll slowly continue on eastward."

Blunt, was the first thing that came into Galen's mind. The second thought was damn and then a list of other foul words. "As if the Final Battle isn't enough," he sighed.

"What are their first cities that are planned to attack?" Keller asked, already moving to their rooms to pack her bags. Galen knew he'd have to pack his own bags, Keller wasn't happy enough to do that for him. Plus she just converted into mission mode and that wasn't the best time to ask for favors.

"We could only assume it's largely populated cities. Los Angeles, San Francisco, you know the deal. At least from what we heard from the girl we tortu…questioned. After desperate questioning of course," Nissa called.

"Thank Goddess they're not attacking small towns. It would only take them an hour to wipe the population of Briar Creek."

~*~*~*~

December 23, 1999

Briar Creek, Oregon

"Make it stop. Just stop," he moaned. Frustrated, he buried his head under the pillow. But the banging just wouldn't go away. Ash sat up and threw his pillow at the door. He then realized he was absolutely furious with a rectangular piece of wood and calmed down. 

Ash took as much time as possible and opened the door. "It is eight thirty. EIGHT THIRTY. Nothing is so important that it can't wait till twelve," he said, leaning against the door frame.

Rowan punched him so hard he almost fell back. _God, you leave them alone for a while and your sisters become she-hulks_, he thought sleepily.

"Ash! Kestrel's gone! And here you are sleeping on your lazy ass when you should be looking for her!" Ash's pale blue eyes widened noticeably. First, Rowan had to be terribly mad because she was swearing, and second…Kestrel was gone.

"She left each of us a letter, good bye letters as if she's already dead! How come I didn't hear her? I should have hear her leave, why didn't I hear her…"

Ash stopped her pacing and pushed her into a sitting position on his bed. It was a devastating blow to her, possibly losing a sister. Ash understood that losing a member of their lethal trio would just paralyze Rowan and melt Jade into a puddle of tears. And although he never admitted it, Ash had somewhat of an emotional attachment to his little sister as well.

"Where did she go?" Ash asked, pulling on a shirt and some jeans. Jade appeared in the door way, cheeks wet, and eyes filled with fresh tears. 

"She went to Las Vegas. She's going to Thierry and then she's going to the Damned Clan Island and then she's going to die!" 

"Wow, thanks, Jade, for your refreshing words of optimism," he growled brusquely as he zipped up his pants.

"Go after her! Bring her back!" Rowan was yelling at him.

Being caught between two livid sisters would normally do two things: make him equally hysterical or make him run, as fast as possible. But before he could choose an option, Mary Lynette, his soul mate extrordinaire, appeared and handed Jade a box of tissues.

"He doesn't have to go after her," she told Rowan calmly. Ash gave a sigh of relief. The last attempt to bring Kestrel back to where she didn't want to go wasn't exactly a success. His darling Mary Lynette had some genius plan that didn't involve him at all. 

"All he has to do is call Thierry and make him send her back here. You can do that right?" Okay, maybe Mary Lynette wasn't so darling after all. Right now she was just being business like, not even giving him a hello. Ash saw a folded up letter in her hand and guess Kestrel had really left a letter for everyone. 

Mary Lynette and his two sisters had him against the wall, literally and figuratively. "I'll try," he promised.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Washington, in Washington I guess.

"Delos! Delos wake up!" Delos glanced at the radio clock. Four o'clock was usually considered whisper time in the Neely household. But according to Maggie's terribly loud orders in his ear, Christmas morning was a special exception.

"DEL~" Delos clamped a gentle hand over her mouth while he shrugged on his flannel shirt. He nearly staggered when she dragged him out of the guest room and to the living room, where her brother was already shaking the brightly wrapped presents. Jake was lying at his feet, but he wagged his tail and jumped up when he saw Maggie.

"Where are your parents?" Delos asked, snatching the gift from Miles' hand. It was from him and he didn't want Miles to ruin the surprise.

"I don't know, I woke them up just before I got you. Guess they must have went back to sleep," Maggie shrugged and went to the master bedroom to waken her parents.

A few minutes later, Maggie's parents plodded into the living room, extremely tired but happy. Delos supposed they were used to rising at an ungodly hour every December twenty fifth.

"Daddy first," Maggie said, making Miles' a little bit more impatient. Delos watched with a smile as her father received a watch from Maggie, a tie from Miles, and two new shirts and a tackle box from his wife, all the while feigning surprise. Then Delos handed him his large, flat present, almost shyly. This time he was truly surprised, Delos was sure because he had just bought the present yesterday.

"Oh, well Del, thank you," he said graciously as he held a chiaroscuro of the Neely family, set in a wooden frame carved by an Arlin witch. Fall leaves, deer, fish, and mountains surrounded the penciled picture of the family.

"Maybe we'll have to add you in someday," Maggie's mother said with a twinkle in her eyes. Delos refused to blush, but he did look away as the family laughed.

The lady of the house hold was given a new yellow bath robe from Miles, ruby and diamond earrings from her husband, and an oldies cd from Maggie. From Delos, she received an antique record needle, for the ancient record player in the basement that she never thought she could play again because she broke the needle as a child. From the wistful gleam in her eyes when she spoke of it, Delos knew she wanted to listen and sing along the old records her mother had sung to her. So it would be a perfect gift.

"Delos this is simply wonderful," Mrs. Neely thanked him. He nodded, unsure of what to say.

Next was Miles, who quickly ravaged the gift wrap of each gift, not reading who it came from. Maggie gave him a cd, Mr. Neely gave him a stereo system, he received a bottle of some expensive cologne from his mother, and Delos gave him new climbing equipment. _Everything_ that Miles had was replaced by Delos' gift. 

"You saved me a year's worth of shopping. Thanks." Delos was glad Miles didn't become too emotional with giving thanks like his parents. 

"And now Maggie," Miles announced. He handed his sister his poorly wrapped present, which was a new CD player and some fuzzy slippers. From her parents, Maggie got a gift certificate at a store in the mall and some new shoes. 

"Here…I had Miles wrap it for me," he added, causing everybody to give a laugh. It was heavy, not wrapped at all, but a simple white box. When she opened it she pushed aside the thin tissue paper and saw a scroll, made entirely out of silver. Shining gems twinkled at her from the encrusted positions sprinkling the scroll and beside it was a vial of crystal clear water. On the glass of the vial were tiny delicate drawings and unfamiliar words, Maggie could only guess what they meant.

On the silver scroll this was inscribed:

__

My Dearest Maggie,

To the darling girl that saved my life,

Who showed me her world and welcomed me.

Who lifted me from hell and gave me heaven,

I thank the stars for sending me such an angel.

My darling, if I was to praise you,

It would take my life time and still I would not list all you virtues.

And if there were a chance, I would hold you soft and kiss you softer.

Earth shall become cold and barren if I don't have your warmth and light.

I shall love you for all eternity, and still I fear that may not be enough.

Knowing that you share the same heart makes me happier than you'll know.

I will not treat you like a goddess, not like a queen, but as my equal, forever.

Nothing, no person or obstacle, would ever keep me from you.

From your love,

Delos

"These quartz, they're from that cave I took you the first day I met you," he whispered, hugging her from behind.

"Oh, well, Maggie, let your old parents see that," her dad said and she handed them the shining scroll. A few minutes of reading, her mother squealed and squeezed her husband's arm. Maggie knew her mother was hearing imaginary wedding bells.

"And the water?" she asked in a low voice, holding up the vial, which was about the size of her forefinger. Maggie guessed she already knew the answer.

"From the water in the cave," he nodded. "And these," he said, pointing to the painted lines, "are just little signs of love and magic."

Before he could continue, Maggie turned around and pressed her lips against his, while her family discreetly left the room.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Somewhere in California

"Hey, let's stop at that Wendy's. I have a craving for some frosties."

"Are you peeking?" Phil asked sharply, making Poppy face the front again. 

"No," she said innocently next to him. James chuckled lightly behind them. He hadn't said anything in a while. _Maybe because he's tired_, Poppy thought. _After all it is six thirty._

"Can I take this off, now?" she whined to her brother, pointing at the red scarf tied tightly around her head, covering her eyes.

"No, but you will be able soon. If you do, you won't get your Christmas present," he warned her with a smile. As he expected, she smiled back. Phil didn't worry, he knew she would close her eyes so that she wouldn't ruin the surprise.

After about ten minutes or so, Poppy did every annoying thing possible, from clicking her tongue to flicking his ear, until she felt Phil park the car. Now she closed her eyes. Phil's hand led her out of the car and they walked for a few minutes, holding hands.

She thought about how he would do so crossing the street when they were younger, much younger.

From her other senses, Poppy guessed that she was in some type of woods. The smell of lumber was cool and crisp, and she could hear the faintest noises of forest animals. And although she couldn't hear any footsteps, through their bond she could feel James walking behind them. From Phil's firm steps and her own walking, she guessed they were walking on a dirt pathway. But then the ground beneath her changed, it felt damp and sunk slightly under her feet. They must have stepped on the grass, into a clearing.

Phil let go, and since she still had her eyes closed, Poppy felt very alone.

"Merry Christmas, Poppy," she heard James whisper. He sounded far away, very far. Then arms circled her.

Normally her reaction would be to jump back, but she froze. Because the embrace felt familiar, and the scent was comforting. All her senses, they were telling her, reminding her. It was like reading a long forgotten book. Poppy wrapped her arms around the woman.

"Mom," she sobbed out in a whisper and laid her head on the warm shoulder. She felt slender, soft hands run through her curly red hair and her mother's arm was squeezing around her tightly. 

"Oh, God, Poppy. My little Poppet." Both women were crying. "Oh," her mother gave a shaky laugh. "Get this thing off," she said as she moved to untie it. Then Poppy looked straight into her mother's eyes.

"You look so pretty," she said shyly, feeling like a toddler. Like she was an innocent, wide eyed girl who needed her beautiful, strong mother to protect her from the world. 

"Thank you, honey." For the first time, it looked like Poppy's mother didn't know what to do. Then Poppy reached forward and kissed her mother on her cheeks. 

"I missed you a lot, Mom."

She nodded, joyful tears spilling from her eyes as she did so. Without coming up with any verbal response, Poppy was once again pulled into a hard hug. For one who was so articulate, seeing her mother Poppy so happy, and strangely quiet.

For an eternity, the stood there, in the hushed clearing as the sun slowly crawled her way up to the sky. While Poppy simply rested her head on her mother's shoulder, she thought about what happened in the past hour. Maybe it wasn't the best, or even most proper reunion, but the feelings she had were just indescribable. There was a time when the elation was just too beautiful and painful to say, because any word in the English language would be too weak. That's why we're standing here, absolutely silent, she thought dreamily.

"No proper words to say this, but…well, I still can't think of anything to say." Poppy broke free from her mother and sprang to hug Phil, as hard as she could.

"Oh, Phil. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou…"

"Air seems pretty good right now," her brother gasped.

"Oh. Oops," she giggled as she loosened her hold around his waist. Sometimes she forgot about her strength. Poppy jumped up so she could hug her tall, right now too tall, brother. "Oh, Phil. This is the most wonderful, bestest, greatest, amazingest, gift ever in my whole entire life. Phil, thank you so much!" she almost shrieked in his ear. Being this happy, Poppy forgot all about grammar.

As much as Phil wanted to get her mouth away from his ear at the moment, he hugged her around the waist so that she could have an easier time thanking him. With her feet dangling in the air like that, she was almost kicking his shins in her excitement. "Hey it was mom's present, too. Kill two birds with one stone," he shrugged.

"Oh thank you, Phil. This means so much to me," his mother said and kissed his cheek and, because Poppy refused to budge, she hugged both of them. Phil was feeling a bit sheepish.

"Well, I had to," he started, but couldn't finish. He couldn't let his sister go off to her death while her mother couldn't see her before. The pain that Phil felt for maybe a few days after Poppy "died" was what his mother lived with for years. He couldn't let that happen. "And what are you thanking me for? You really should thank James," Just as he said it, Poppy spied James standing a few feet away from them, looking at the ground.

"Oh James," she squealed as she ran to him, nearly knocking him over as she leapt into his arms. The teetered for a moment, Poppy unaware of their loss of balance as James softened the fall for her with his body.

"Ouch," he breathed out while Poppy's arms embraced his neck like a boa constrictor.

"Oh, James this is the best gift anybody has given me. Gee, I don't even know how to begin to thank you…"

James stroked her silky curls while she tried to sum up her indescribable feelings. "Poppy, you don't need to thank me. I'm doing all the best things I can, to prove to the universe that I deserve you. You deserve all of this, you deserve anything you want. And I'll always be there to give it to you."

"Awe shucks, James," Poppy giggled, noticing how she sounded shaky to her own ears. "You've reduced me to tears on Christmas Day. I love you so much, I could never tell you how much," she told him, her voice muffled as she laid her head on his shoulder.

James didn't tell her he loved her back; instead he let her feel it. During the little quiet time afterwards, while he watched Poppy and her mother chatter and hug and cry, he realized that he meant what he said. He would always be there for her, no matter what. No person is going to stop him, and that meant no damn battle either.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Briar Creek, Oregon

"I mean it Thierry, if you're covering for her, you'll be sorry." Ash never knew he could muster that much courage to talk to his boss that way. But even in doubt, he managed to sound like an icicle through the line and he knew that Thierry would be surprised.

"Are you threatening me, Ash? That is not the proper way to ask for help," Thierry replied in an equally menacing tone.

With cold formality, Ash said, "I do not mean to disrespect you sir. But family duties come before any job or association and if it comes to challenging an Elder, so be it. I am merely doing what I think is necessary."

After a sigh, that to Ash seemed to last forever, Thierry answered, "I'll do what I think is best Ash. That's all." And with that there was a click and then a dial tone.

Ash leaned against the wall and finally hung up the phone when those annoying busy beeps began. Great. Three girls, two sisters and a soul mate, demanding him to fix a huge problem, and his boss…no, his _friend_ wasn't even trying to help. 

By the time Ash counted the twentieth time he had banged his head on the wall, he heard footsteps pattering up the stairs. Light, yet confidant and quick, efficient…Mary Lynnette. If it had been his sisters, he wouldn't have even heard them.

"Hey buddy, stop that," she said and pulled him away from the wall, cupping his face. "The only person allowed to beat you up is me." Ash only gave a faint smile in response. Mary Lynnette felt wetness as her soft fingers touched his cheek. "What's the matter?" she whispered.

Ash shrugged, and then cleared his throat. "Oh just that my little sister is on her way to certain death, and there's no where to turn for help. I'm powerless to stop her. What would my father say? His only son can't even stop his daughter from dying, he's just a weak hearted little good for nothing…" Ash would have continued had not Mary Lynnette hugged him tightly and stopped his lips with a quick light kiss. 

"Stop that. You know she's not exactly a 'little' sister any more."

Ash had to chuckle softly at that. "That's what she wrote in my letter."

"I'm sorry we all pushed you around before," she apologized softly while weaving her hands through his blonde hair. "Just by caring, you're being a great big brother. And an even better boy friend." Ash had no clue as to what to say for that, so instead he pulled her closer, so he could be cheek to cheek with the most wonderful girl in the world.

It wasn't until Mary Lynnette heard somebody say, "Yes she's been hear for quite a while now…" that she opened the eyes she never knew she closed. Over his shoulder she saw that it was already eight o'clock and moonlight was pouring in one of the room's windows.

"Ash, we have to get moving," she told him, playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. 

"Okay."

"Well, sweetie, you're going to have to put me down." For a moment Mary Lynnette thought he wasn't going to oblige, but after waiting patiently for five minutes her feet finally touched the ground.

"I know this isn't going to fix everything, but if this is what Kestrel wants to do, then she's happy. Be happy for her happiness, just like she was for us." And with that, Mary Lynnette bounced down the stairs. He supposed it was she was supposed to help with the Christmas dinner he and his sisters, the remainder of them any way, were invited to. It left him utterly amazed that Mary Lynnette could become smarter than she already was.

Later that day…

"The apple strudel was delicious Mrs. Carter," Jade remarked politely. Ash raised his eyebrows across from her. This was a Lady Jade Redfern performance at its best. Manners at the dinner table page 101.

_I'm surprised you haven't eaten with your hands,_ he remarked silently to her with a smirk. Jade glared at him.

_Don't ruin things Ash,_ she shot back and then sent an image of her sticking her tongue at him. He laughed aloud, safe from any curious stares because most of the family, along with Rowan, was moving to the living room. There they would open presents.

Ash didn't pay attention to what Mary Lynnette's parents received frankly because he didn't care. His gift to them was shared with Rowan's, whatever that was. He _tried_ to care mind you, but Mary Lynnette just kept on distracting him. She was absolutely stunning in her dark blue velvet dress, lighter blue stars embroidered in just the right places. He couldn't help but notice how the dress, with its sleeveless and scoop neck top and the mid thigh hem, made her look innocent and alluring at the same time. Her chocolate brown hair hung loosely around her shoulders and down her back in beautiful curls. Even her blue eyes appeared prettier.

She caught him staring at her and made an annoyed motion with her hand, telling him to pay attention. Whose turn was it now…ah, yes Jade. Ash watched absently while she opened sweaters, perfume assortments, and other things he didn't even know the name or purpose for. He saw Jade pick up a small box, wrapped in plain brown paper and caught her eye.

"You'll like that, it's from me," he said confidently. 

Jade gave him a suspicious look and ripped open the present. It was a gold necklace with a little kitty as the charm, emeralds encrusted as its eyes. Extreme details were wrought in, whiskers were noticed, and the jeweler had even marked lines and little claws at the feet. Like a greedy child she was, in Ash's opinion, Jade squeaked with pleasure when she saw it.

"Oh, Ash, thank you! Are these emeralds? How did you remember they're my birthstones? Thank you so much!"

_Birthstones?_ Ash had no idea, but he wasn't about to admit that.

Next was Rowan, who received a few things similar to Jade's, but also books and antiques. From Ash, she received a leather bound copy of _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bronte. Took quite a time to haggle the shop owner to a price that Ash thought suitable. Much as he expected, he was thanked by a warm hug, which he awkwardly returned.

Ash wondered vaguely why Mary Lynnette hadn't opened her presents until, after a few moments, he finally realized they were going around the room, not in a family order. Oh, he thought. That's why it was his turn now.

From Jade…a cd. Not the most original idea, but then again (in his opinion) Jade wasn't the most creative girl. From Rowan, a silver Rolex. Very nice, he thought as he pictured himself wearing it and looking…hmm what does a Rolex make one look like? Rich? Important? No matter, it was very nice any way. From the Carter's, all except Mary Lynnette, he received…laptop? 

"So it will be easier to communicate with Mary Lynnette," Mark said lightly. "Just in case you happen to lose your cell again." Ash did not ignore Mark's hidden meaning behind the words, he knew the boy hated him when he left Mary Lynnette or failed to make contact.

"Thank you," he said politely to his parents, not looking at Mark.

"I'll give you your present later," Mary Lynnette told him after she unwrapped her presents. 

"And I'll give you yours," he replied. He didn't want to tell Mary Lynnette that he accidentally left her gift next to Kestrel's in his room.

After some more talking and then good byes, Ash walked his sisters back to their house, which Ash noticed, Jade rolled her eyes at. 

By silent understanding, Ash found Mary Lynnette as he walked to back to her house, half way there. She was still in her blue dress, but she also had a matching cape over it. 

"You're pwetty," he greeted her with a childish voice as he pulled her to him. "Bewwy pwetty." He felt his girl tip toe and kiss his cheek.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." Ash looked down at himself after she stepped back. He was wearing khakis, a blue, and rather stiff from little use, collar shirt and a dark tie. 

"This old thing? Look what I got," he started, suddenly feeling the urge to see her face light up with surprise. After digging in his pocket, he found the cream envelope and handed it to her.

"Oh don't dawdle," he pleaded childishly as she began to study the envelope at all angles. With a little laugh that sounded like angel music to his ears, she carefully opened it and pulled out two pieces of paper.

"This is a picture of an observatory. And a letter. That's my present?" She didn't sound bratty as one would expect her to be, just mildly surprised.

"Yup, the letter is from a friend of mine who owns that observatory with that huge telescope that you see right there," he rambled excitedly. "After many months, I convinced him to let you have it." Mary Lynnette dropped the letter and its contents. Fortunately, Ash was quick enough to catch them before they fell into the snow.

"Mine?" 

"Well…ours to be exact."

"And he just let us have it?" she asked incredulously. How could any one part with such a thing?

"Of course not. After serious pleading, and I mean serious, I had to resort to other means. Don't look at me like that, I didn't kill anybody, just few little deals here and there. Nothing treacherous enough for Melrose Place, Mary Lynnette, you're looking at me as if I was the devil. Aren't you happy?" Ash finished worriedly as he bent down a little to look Mary Lynnette straight in the eyes.

She blinked as if seeing him for the first time and gave an unexpected shriek, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Oh my god! Ash, this is wonderful!" Ash wrapped his arms around her waist as she began to slip down him. He also winced as she began to babble about all the things they could do, her voice a little too loud right next to his ear.

"I thought you'd like it," he said to her, the ever present confidence in his voice. She pulled her head back and gave him a kiss, to thank him and also to shut him up. She didn't want him to start bragging.

"It's in Arizona. Don't look so surprised. You thought I wasn't listening all those times you said all that stuff about air being dry or something. What do you want to call it?"

Mary Lynnette thought for a moment. "I don't know. Let's not think about that yet. Here I have to give you your present now."

She hopped down and then reached for a blue velvet purse, now partially wet from sitting in the snow for so long, and dug around inside. To his surprise, his present was also in an envelope.

Unlike Mary Lynnette, but more like Jade, he tore the envelope open excitedly and found a letter, which was written in Thierry's hand writing.

"Ash," she began, gently taking the letter away from him. "I know how you joined the Circle Daybreak for me, and how much you think of it as a burden than a duty. And I know how much you want to learn so…" Without knowing how to say it herself, she put the letter in between them and pointed to the last sentences.

_I will let you go and pursue your dreams, Ash. Should you feel a need to fight by my side again, say the words. Otherwise, I wish you luck._

Boss and friend,

Thierry

"You got me fired for Christmas?" he crowed joyously as he swept her once again into his arms. With sudden strength from his happiness he tossed her in the air before catching her and kissing her hard.

Gasping for breath she pushed him away and said, "And, since you've done so much work, he'll be willing to pay for your tuition in college, that is if you want to go." As she had hoped, Ash smiled again and pulled her closer.

"Thank you, my lovely little Mary Lynnette. Thank you so much," he whispered before he kissed her, gentler than before but with equal passion.

"You make me depressed when you leave every summer and winter. This way you'll never leave me," she murmured, thinking aloud.

"We'll visit our observatory next summer," he mumbled against her lips. "I promise, no matter what, we'll make it to next summer." Mary Lynnette pulled his lips back to hers, knowing what his tone meant but did not want to pursue it.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

Once they arrived, Keller and Galen slept fitfully entwined in each other's arms in the reck room. Under the circumstances, it was decided that they house sit for Thierry while he was away. Keller decided she didn't feel like visiting any of her friends' families for the holidays and Galen's parent's were far too busy to accommodate guests or even celebrate the season. 

Thierry only paused for a moment behind the couch and looked at the newly weds. Not wanting to awaken them, he left them a note on the television before leaving for Hannah's home. He had little to say, other than congratulations and where their presents were located. 

Gale slowly opened his eyes. "What kind of idiot slams door when people are sleeping," he grumbled. He immediately regretted speaking aloud when he felt Keller stir on top of him.

"He did not slam the door. We're just jumpy," she corrected sleepily, snuggling closer to him. Galen shifted a bit uncomfortably. "What?" she asked looking up at him.

"I'm just a little ticklish when you do that," he answered and then showed a little amount of space between his fingers. "Just this much," he said.

She gave an interested "hmm" and then eased off a little. "I'll use that later. Galen…I've been thinking and…I didn't get you a present. With all the mayhem going around, it never occurred to me. I'm sorry."

He gave a soft laugh. "What a relief. You and me, we got the same kind of minds. I didn't get you a present either." He stopped smiling when he saw Keller was truly upset at his forgetfulness. Funny how she never got this emotional over problems before. A few hours before, Keller had been unbelievably distraught and then angry when she learned the mansion was virtually empty and there would be no one to see once they arrived. And now here she was, near tears because they forgot a little detail. _Oh well_, he thought as he moved to sit up and let Keller lay her head in his lap. He would just deal with these little mood swings, perhaps it was a new bride occurrence.

"We could pretend the gifts everybody else got us are from each other. I know it sounds silly, but it's the best I could do honey. Unless you want to go out now, but I doubt we could find a shopping place open on Christmas…" He stopped when she laid a finger on his lips.

"That will be fine. Besides, we just got married. What more of a present could we get?" Keller said happily. Galen simply looked at her. She was acting as if _he _had been the one who overreacted. 

"Well, since we're up," she began in a brisk business like manner, suddenly standing before him, "let's get to work. There are calculations that need to get done if we want to save the major populations of the west coast."

"There's the Keller I know and love," he mumbled as she dragged him away. They worked on numbers for the rest of the afternoon, battle tactics, and dinner.

As they settled into bed Keller almost fell asleep until she felt strong arms pull her swiftly to the right side of the king size bed and a gentle mouth nibbling at her neck.

"Keller, are you all right?" her husband whispered into ear. "You've been acting strange all day."

Keller turned until she was facing her husband nose to nose. "I think it was those tofu chips our pilot let us have. Yuck." Galen laughed at her crinkled up face as she remembered the taste.

"And then you had a really light lunch," Galen added remembering the dinner mints bowl going empty as they worked in the kitchen. "Not to mention unhealthy. I forgot how weird you get with lack of food."

Without warning, Keller jumped from the bed and over Galen to the bathroom. After a few moments, Galen heard spewing and then the flushing of a toilet. Soon a wobbly Keller appeared at the door way, holding her stomach. 

"I don't think that almost-expired-but-smells-all-right milk helped at all. Me and my dairy product attachments," she mumbled after she gargled and crawled into bed next to a worried Galen. _Oh yes_, he thought, _cats and their milk…._

"Are you sure you're all right? Maybe you could take some medicine…" Keller shook her head.

"Let's just go asleep Galen. We have a busy few days a head of us, so let's just have our quiet time now, huh? We'll sleep now and then work later…"Keller trailed off as she yawned and let the sleep take over her, leaving Galen yet again surprised. Keller never fell asleep so fast.

Shrugging, he gathered her into his arms and fell asleep to the calm steady rhythm of her heart beating against his.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Clayton, California

"It's nice to finally meet a few more of your new friends," Aunt Nanami said politely after the introductions were finally taken care of. It was actually more than a few, more like ten or so. To Jez's surprise, Claire quickly made new friends for every visit to the mansion.

"And it is simply a pleasure to meet the woman who created this fair being here," Warren returned, making Claire blush and her mother's eyes widen for a moment. There was nothing more than friendship there, that was certain, but just for the fun of seeing Claire turn beet red, he would say something that would convince a bystander otherwise.

"He's just being a ham," Nissa cut in and rescued Claire from batting off insinuations and meaningful looks from her mother. Mrs. Goddard gave a polite but still hopeful nod at her daughter and her friend before excusing herself to welcome other guests.

Nissa looked around and spotted Jez and Morgead walked in an unassuming air to the back porch to meet the setting sun. She started after them, but Jez's friend, Raven Mandril, caught her in conversation and soon she forgot about the couple.

"Everybody's here," Jez said in what should have been a cheerful voice, but was heard as gloomy. Morgead simply nodded in agreement from his lawn chair to her across the patio table.

"You'll get lots of presents then," he commented in a lazy voice after a while. Jez nodded. As a rule, they never formally gave each other Christmas gifts, simply because there was nothing good enough to give to each other. There would be gestures of course, dinners, walks on the beach…all the endings to the romance movies. The first year they were together, they tried very hard to give the most meaningful gifts and ended up competing on who could get the first and best gifts. It was only natural, after all those years of competing and testing each other…well, old habits died hard.

This year, they had both decided to drop the loving custom to spend time at the Goddard's Christmas party, with Jez's family. But, with all the time he had spent there and how many times he talked with them, Morgead was accepted as one of the blood as well.

For a few moments, the silence resumed as they watched the last bit of sun slowly fall behind the horizon of trees. That was as far as she could see it, but undoubtedly Morgead could still see it through the trees and even farther. 

Although their purpose for leaving the jovial company had long since departed and the darkness of night was soon coming, they did not move from their restful positions. Morgead often looked over at Jez, and take in her silk silver blue dress that accentuated her curves and her eyes and the beauty of her face, her eyes. Sometimes Jez would catch him and stared into his own green irises and smile. 

"I bought you a present, but I didn't want to give it to you in front of everybody," Morgead finally murmured. He was completely sure it was the wrong time and place, but the urgency was strong. 

Jez watch him for a moment with interest and the tiny twinge of guilt, for she had not bought him a present. Then just a little bit of annoyance for buying her something when he knew very well it was untraditional. But the dead seriousness in his eyes stopped her from snapping at him.

Morgead seemed to hesitate, which was very uncharacteristic. His eyes hardened, as if someone had just given him a kamikaze mission and he was ready to plunge in head first.

With swift and rather jerky movements, he rose from his chair and moved to stand in front of her. He caught Jez looking at him with puzzlement in her silver-blue eyes, but ignored it to dig into his pockets. Something was missing…

"Oh, there it is," he said in a way that suggested he had lost his lighter. Before she could see what it was, he swooped down to grab something square from under the chair he vacated moments before.

"Well?" she barked impatiently when he just looked up and gazed at the stars.

"Hey, I'll give you the present when I feel like it," he snapped back out of habit. Out of all the important, peaceful moments she had to go and ruin it.

"What's the point of announcing you have a present and then giving it centuries later?" she shot back, and stood up to meet his eyes.

"Centuries? Now that I see how you feel, I don't think I should give a gift to such a greedy little girl," he replied in a mocking voice. His mind was coming up full of comebacks, but he knew he could go only so far without getting physically injured. His ego would just have to bear the bruises.

There. There, he started it. He had wound her up and then gave her nothing for a release from her curiosity. "I'm greedy? _I'm_ greedy? Why you…you…hypocritical, dim witted, egotistical pig!"

"If I'm…all that stuff you just called me, then you're a stuck up, stubborn, ill tempered…foul shrew!" Morgead wasn't entirely sure that it meant what he thought it meant, he hadn't seen that Dickens movie for a few years now. And he immediately regretted the words as soon as he saw Jez's eyes (that were beautiful a moment before, but was now helped Morgead as a flashing on road signs that showed danger) darkened and then flashed silver in a split second.

Obviously, the insult meant the same as it had in Great Expectations, for Jez responded in the most ferocious, feral snarl Morgead had ever heard from someone, who was in human form at least. Then, while he was still numbly pondering of what her next actions would be, he felt two hands shove at him with the strength and determination of a bulldozer and the speed of Jez. Before he knew what happened, he felt the air rushing from behind him and an uncomfortable thud on mulch and azalea bushes. Looking straight above him, he could see Jez standing over the railing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Morgead Blackthorn just fell twenty feet from this patio, nearly missing the rose bushes, and must have injured his head. Thanks heavens there's nothing valuable in there, otherwise we'd have trouble." Jez gave an artificial, game show host laugh. "Let's ask him how he feels. But wait…we don't care! Let's ask him if he will kindly give his girlfriend the Christmas present now. Morgead…give it!"

Jez's merry laughing was stopped when he tossed the gift up at her, hitting her squarely on the forehead. It didn't hurt, but her ego was sorely wounded for letting such an easy blow land. "Ow!" she yelled down at him. The stream of angry words was abruptly dammed when she observed the velvet box he had so rudely struck her with. She was so engrossed with the tiny gift that she didn't look up when Morgead leapt from the ground to the railing. 

"There's more inside," he said in a mocking, but gentle tone. 

"Genius alert," she murmured. Slowly, she poked a finger underneath the lid and let it swing open by itself. Jez gasped, and made Morgead smile. "Earrings? But where's the other one? Morgead, did you pawn it?"

He frowned. "Fine, if you want to make a mockery of this beautiful moment, you don't get the present," he sulked loudly. His hands made an attempt to grab it, but she held it to her protectively.

"I was just kidding!" she exclaimed. When she saw him relax, she added, "I knew the whole time it was a toe ring. But kind of fancy just to sit around in my shoe, don't you think?" Before she could stop him, the box was quickly torn from her grasp and was fit snugly in his pocket.

Morgead, with an absolutely devilish gleam in his eyes, wrapped his hands around her waist and tossed her over the railing. She let out an ear bleeding shriek, arms flailing wildly for something to hold on to. Once again, her opinion of herself plummeted at the thought of how she simply stood there when she should have been noticing any muscle twinges. Unfortunately, Morgead had tossed her directly above the roses that he had narrowly missed.

Just as she shut her eyes and was about to pivot in the air so she could land on her feet, a strong, warm hand lashed out from above her and pulled her up, but not completely.

"Are you going to accept this or not?" Morgead flashed his teeth briefly and held up the diamond ring shaped like a crystal, the golden band melted and carved into a rose.

"If I don't, I don't think I'll drop to certain death. Besides, a forced answer is hardly romantic." Despite this bantering, her heart was soaring, and she was having some slight trouble getting air in and out of her lungs. And it was definitely not because of her current dangling position. Looking up into his emerald eyes, she could see the excited twinkle there too. The anticipation and suspense was killing them both, yet they still let it drag on.

"Let me up, you gorilla." Although she still kept the mischievous and knowing smile on her lips, she winced a bit at her last insult. Apparently, the high elevation was affecting her brain; a "gorilla?" Surely there was a more effective term to insult him.

"Do you want to get married or not?" Morgead called, obviously loving the test of patience.

"Oh, is that the most popular proposal going on these days? Gee, how could a girl refuse?"

"It makes me wonder why you're still hanging there and not swooning in my arms. Say yes or no."

"Yes or no," she repeated sweetly and tossed her flaming hair back. Morgead noticed distractedly that even in the night time, the red waves were still shining and vibrant.

"I could wait here all night," he warned.

"Then so can I. Ask me properly and then we might get some forty winks," she commanded.

"What if I don't?" he challenged in an equal demanding voice.

Without a word, she let go of his hand (while he cursed himself for not keeping a stronger hold) and grabbed to the railing that was beside it. Using it as a gymnast would use the bars, she easily swung herself over him, a blur of blue and red against the black sky. Morgead took his time turning, knowing there would be a smug smile to meet him.

Silently, she gestured towards the ground and Morgead bent down on both knees. It was a gesture of surrender, not at all the romantic marriage position she wanted. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he quickly corrected it.

"Jez Redfern, the most annoying and loving girl I know, will you do the honor of marrying me? I may regret this later, but that extra alcohol in the eggnog is just having a strange effect on me!" He was almost yelling the words now, as if he wanted the stars to share the conversation, but kept his eyes staring unflinchingly to hers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that not only the stars were involved with their serious chit chat, but also a number of faces were casually lined up against the windows.

Jez took a step closer. No more teasing, no more playful games. She let a hand run through his hair, so soft it felt like she was touching silk itself. Who ever thought of the one knee proposal anyway, she thought absently. Morgead never lost eye contact with her, but by the way his eyelids drooped ever so slightly let her know he enjoyed her touch.

Not comfortable with the difference of heights, she kneeled in front of him and wrapped two arms around his neck. "You know," she said in a voice that somehow came out low and husky, "I had my share of the eggnog. Looks like it's affecting me too…because I'm saying yes. Yes, Morgead Blackthorn, what did you think I'd say!" Despite her low voice, the excitement and eagerness wouldn't have been more obvious if she yelled it. He slipped the ring over her wedding finger.

Tired of the wait and impatient as always, his hand tangled its way into her mass of red hair and Morgead's lips capture hers. Jez was momentarily taken by surprise at his passionate, almost rough kiss. His lips were burning into hers, slowly driving her into the demanding state he was obviously in. 

_Every time we kiss each other…_she began dreamily.

_…it's like the first time, _Morgead completed the thought in a gentle tone contradicting the way his lips bruised hers. _Every time I look you, I feel the same way when I first fell in love with you. OH DAMN IT!_

Jez was about to start when she suddenly heard voices, distant and fuzzy, outside of the small world they retreated to. _Oh_, she thought. _That's_ _why_.

Jez broke the kiss just as Morgead did, and both turned to glare at the sickeningly cheerful faces at the windows, now openly spying. "Damn it all to hell," she agreed, annoyance clear in her voice.

Her aunt slowly opened the door, a sneaky smile on the face. "Children," Aunt Nanami started, "did what I think just happened…happen?" Morgead rolled his eyes at the word "children."

"Well did you see a flying dragon come down and eat the azalea bushes? What do you think happened?," Jez responded smartly, but sweet enough so that her aunt wouldn't become too miffed. Beyond the small woman, she could see the rows of faces laughing at her remark.

"Oh hell," Morgead swore as he picked himself up and helped Jez. "I just proposed to Jez. Is that all right?" Morgead had a way of being tactless and yet so strangely polite (such as asking if marrying his soul mate was all right and being completely serious) Jez found herself smiling at him.

"Why of course it is," a new voice assured him. Her uncle. 

"Well, I'm glad I'm sharing this wonderfully romantic moment with my aunt and uncle," Jez murmured. Her uncle gave her a mildly rebuking look. 

"Come on," her aunt said. "Let's go tell everybody inside."

"Actually, just that one couple in the bathroom that missed our performance," Morgead whispered in her ear as he led Jez into the house. Jez turned and kissed his cheek at the last moment of semi privacy before they faced the ecstatic crowd waiting in the living room.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999

Boston, Massachusetts 

The silence was so strong it was deafening. Rashel had no clue why, but sometimes in completely quietness she would hear a continuous high pitched beep. She wasn't sure what made that happen, but it irritated the hell out of her. Even the flaming logs, which were supposed to be crackling to make the Christmas evening cliché, kept dutifully silent.

"Aren't we chatty John?" Rashel said calmly, eyes staying on the fire. They could have watched a television show, but her soul mate didn't keep a TV, due to the lack of time spent in the apartment. Neither of them would have known what was on any way. She hadn't said it because she was uncomfortable with the stillness. In fact, Rashel was quite content of staying on the sofa, curled up in her John's arms. She knew that other couples of Circle Daybreak were spending the Christmas night similarly. 

Somewhere in the modest apartment, an antique grandfather clock chimed. Rashel counted…one. That was it, just one. She had stayed longer than she had intended. It was so easy to lose time, because when she and John held each other…Rashel sighed. There simply was no such _thing_ as time then.

"Would you like to stay here for the night?" he asked in a normal tone, not in the least uncomfortable in asking her. No matter how frank the conversation got, somehow Quinn was never bothered to ask her anything.

Rashel turned to give him a sharp look, but only to receive a calm look in return. "I'll be a gentleman Rashel. Really. What dirty little idea did you have forming in your brilliant mind?" He said it all in an innocent voice, never skipping a beat.

For a moment, she wasn't sure if she should be irked for accusing her as such, or to smile at his compliment. She chose the former.

"Of course not. Lord knows _you_ were though. Hundred years old you maybe, but you still got the body and…bodily functions…"she said casually but with a gleam in her eyes, "of an eighteen year old man."

Quinn grinned against her hair. He was glad that he had no comment for that, for any that he could come up with would surely earn him a slap in the face and a Christmas evening alone. After another lapse of quiet time, he murmured, "Then it seems that I am seeing an older woman. You are after all, nineteen." It was true. When they had first met, she had been seventeen and he, well his body, was eighteen. Now the tables had turned.

Rashel thought about it for a minutes. "You're right. I'm a regular cradle robber," she grinned. As always, he caught her by surprise by cobra quick precision and speed to press his lips upon hers. She wasn't sure if he did it by impulse, or just to stop her talking. Either way, she always found herself kissing back. 

When she pulled back, she forgot what she was saying and simply laid her head on his shoulders. It was just the two of them and he loved it this way. They had been to Christmas parties, birthday parties, graduation parties…Quinn was happy they were alone, especially now. 

"Have you called everybody and told them our Christmas, Kwanza, Hanukah, and holiday greetings?" he asked suddenly.

"No," she answered smoothly, "they already called. Mostly to ask us again if they wanted us to come to their parties. You were off somewhere, and there is still lots of messages on the answering machine if you want to hear them."

"You want to know what your present is?" He waited until she nodded. "I'm going to let you drive my BMW again." He didn't react to the slight elbow jab at his stomach.

"Oh that! The other car appeared from no where, John. You know I'm a good driver. You were just so possessive of that hunk of metal, you used that tiny accident as an excuse to have it all to yourself." She was happy though, that she would have transportation now, unlike the six months where she was banned from using it.

"Now, now don't say such harsh words. In my day we only had horses to use and we had to _feed_ them. Hunk of metal indeed…"

Rashel smiled, knowing in a small way she was right. "Did you want a Christmas present from me? I'm sorry, John, I didn't get you one," she apologized, guilt thick in her voice. He tightened his arms around her.

"Stay here, with me. Keep an old man company. Don't want to be lonely on Christmas night. That will be my Christmas present." Rashel turned to him and sighed. Rashel knew that her John rarely went so far as a puppy dog face, as most men knew how strong that weapon was, but when he did…she melted. Right into a puddle in his lap.

"Okay," she breathed, hardly aware she was agreeing. Quinn lost the wide eyes and slightly drooping bottom lip to give her another kiss, this time more forceful.

~*~*~*~

December 25, 1999 

Somewhere else in Boston

It had been a beautiful October day. That was the first thing she remembered, and then she recalled the farm they visited. Everything had been perfect, even the deformed, brown pumpkins made it all picturesque. And they all held hands and laughed, as if one could get lost in the flat field of pumpkin rows. It was such a Kodak moment, her feelings for the memory wavered between nostalgia and disgust.

It was her present to herself. Never mind the stupid sweaters and perfumes from that piece of fluff Brooke, and forget the priceless and expensive trinkets from Hunter. It was all worthless. But memories weren't worthless at all; they were all she had left. And remembering them was an option she hadn't given herself in a long time, too long.

Mari remembered the time Robby came home from the hospital. Her little brother, with big, wondering blue eyes and shining dark brown hair, almost black. Her father whispered to her, "Look princess, look. He looks just like you." She agreed very solemnly.

It was now strange to remember that moment. Her brother, a boy she was never related too, bore resemblance to her. That changed as he grew older. His dark hair gradually lightened, and his eyes remained round, while hers were almond shaped. Nevertheless, people still recognized them as relatives. What a joke.

After all many said Mari tanned very much like a second cousin on her father's side. There was no reason to doubt her heritage. Mari wished she hadn't.

Her mother, Carol Yolken. She too had brown hair, but later on dyed it blonde in her middle aged years. From the age twelve and up, all Mari could remember were argument after argument with the woman. But before that, they were the best of friends. Maybe that was why they never got along during her teen years.

And her father. He had been Swedish, tall and nothing short of a Viking. A booming laugh that shook the hanging pictures on the walls, but he also had a quiet and reasonable voice that was just as powerful. Try as she might, Mari could not find single fault in the man. In death, it was hard to find any flaw in anybody one was close to.

_And I killed them all_, she thought, depressed, in her bed. One o'clock and all she could do was think about the family she formerly belonged to. _They_ didn't lie to her._ They_ didn't question her motives for every move she made. She learned from Hunter that they truly thought she was a Yolken. He had her switched with their true daughter, so she could grow up in a happy home. It had been internal agony to laugh with him about her past.

_Don't think about that_, she ordered herself. _Think about the happy things._ She thought about picnics, birthday parties, and other familial events before the fire. It was all she had left.

~*~*~*~

December 27, 1999

Las Vegas, Nevada

Thierry woke the couple up with a polite slamming of the door. Galen was the first to open his eyes but soon closed them when Thierry pulled the curtains open jerkily.

"Why? What is it?" Keller asked sitting up with a hand to hold up the blanket over her chest.

"Have you seen Hannah?" he demanded. Galen noticed his movements weren't fluid as usual and there were dark bags under his eyes. "Has Hannah been here?" he demanded with more volume when they merely sat there.

"No," Galen answered slowly, cautiously. "We thought she was with you…"

"She was! She was with me one moment at her parents house…and when I woke up her parents said she left already. She left without me! Her parents wouldn't tell me where, I'm not even sure they knew. I was hoping…I was hoping that she was here just for some cute little trick to worry me…"

Mutely, Keller shook her head. The mature motherly Hannah she knew was not the sort to play such a trick. Thierry looked at them one last time with narrowed eyes, his ridiculous suspicion louder than a siren. With a frustrated growl rumbling deep in his throat, Thierry stormed out the room.

Since sleepiness fled them with the new problem at hand, the two began to climb out of bed. In their silence, they could hear doors slam louder than the prior. Thierry was checking each room, which was quite a task considering the size of the mansion. By one last slam that echoed down the hall, Keller and Galen were already dressed and ready for the flight to the island. The footsteps farther down the corridor seemed angry themselves. Thierry's fury could be felt through the walls, and possibly through out the entire mansion.

"WHERE THE IS SHE?"

****

"I saw you—my anger became admiration;

And now, all my wish, all my hope's to regain you." George Gordon, Lord Byron


	3. Frozen Fire 3

Author: Adelaide

Summary: A-dur. War. 

Frozen Fire

December 29, 1999

"The wards are set, no need to worry about them," Aradia informed him before he could ask such a stupid question. Although she never showed it, she could become irked just as everybody else did. But it was not Maiden like.

"Ah…yes, right," Thierry muttered quickly and scanned the area for the slightest problems. Under the circumstances, the Daybreakers were going to need as much comfort that could be given on a piece of an ice some called an island. Damned Clan island was a fitting name.

From the large rock he was standing on, he saw that the tents were being pitched in a disorganized fashioned, unlike the neat rows Rashel had planned. He stopped himself from harshly vocalizing his disapproval when he saw why; the terrain was full of the snow covered rocks like the one he was standing on, and the snow probably hid dozens of man sized pits, all which the builders cleverly avoided. As of late, he hadn't been thinking problems through and therefore fell into embarrassing moments.

"Hannah helped me think," he said aloud, as if offering some excuse to nobody in particular. The few who passed him paid him little attention, because a more important job was at hand. Preparing for the Final Battle was the only thing that clouded their minds. Thierry remembered himself and left the rock to do what help he could offer.

A moment or two afterward, a small, pixie like girl climbed into the spot her boss had vacated and put a hand to her head in an attempt to block the sun from her eyes. Thoughtfully, she decided to bend a little on one leg and move the other behind her. There. A living statue. Poppy giggled at her silliness but then resumed at the task at hand.

"Poppy North!" Normally James' voice was anything but startling, but now that it was, Poppy nearly fell from its intensity. Luckily, she landed directly into her soul mate's arms.

"Now is not the time to play games," he reprimanded sternly as he let go. Poppy felt a stab of annoyance and soon it showed on her face.

"For your information. Mr. I Think I Know Everything, I was _not_ playing games. Jez told me to find Warren, because he is needs to unload the food supplies for Section B. Is that all right with you?" She finished in her best Mari Tybal impression. He winced.

"Yes. Sorry, I just thought…sorry," James mumbled. _She's not a child idiot,_ he told himself. _Stop thinking she's going to behave like one._

"Better listen to your smarter part of the brain there, honey," Poppy told him with a smile before she caught Warren over his shoulder. "Warren!" James smiled at her fleeting form before moving to the docks to greet the last of the fighting Daybreakers.

Trent Mapleston was already directing the newcomers to their tents…which was James' job. For a moment Rasmussen was confused at the sight but then remembered he was a few minutes late. Normally, a few minutes hardly counted as late, but now everything was planned up to the second, even the arrival of ships and planes. James was glad Thierry wasn't around to yell at him. Ever since Hannah's disappearance, their leader had been on edge.

"Hey Trent I'll take over now," he told the boy. Trent nodded and went off to his assigned job. Everybody worked now. Even on breaks, they were restless so helped others who were still on duty. Being on the Damned Clan Island gave the same feeling that a cemetery gave on Halloween's midnight.

Surprisingly, Keller and Galen were one of the last ones to step onto the dock. Keller and Galen, two of the most brilliant strategists, who should have been at the battle island as soon as possible, were the last ones.

"She's been feeling a bit…under the weather," Galen explained to James in a subdued voice. They both turned to Keller, who was running to get their luggage, and then running back with two suit cases in each hand.

"Really?" James was confused but also amused by his friend's definition of "under the weather." Galen gave a shake of his head that suggested that he was just as baffled by his wife's behavior as James.

"Well, you're going to tent thirty seven in section P. Don't worry, the tents are a lot roomier than they look." With a thanks, Galen left James and helped Keller with the bags.

"Over here," he pointed toward their tents with his head. Keller unceremoniously threw their bags inside the white tent and rolled out her sleeping bag. Galen stood for a moment outside before following her. He was surprised to see that he could stand without bumping into anything. He was surprised again to see his wife sprawled on her sleeping bag at his feet. "Keller?" Galen bent down and saw that she was almost asleep.

"Keller, we have to set up the air mattress first. Are you sure you're not sick anymore?" It was a question he had asked many times before, but he also knew he had gotten an untruthful answer each time.

"Jet lag?" she offered sleepily. Instead of laughing at her attempt of a joke, Galen's brow furrowed.

"Jet lag is the disruption of body rhythms caused by high speed _air travel_ across different time zones. Air travel being the key words there."

"Obviously somebody was bored enough to read Mr. Webster's famous works. Look, Galen, I'm tired. That's all, it's not a huge deal. Aren't you tired?"

"Well, yes…"

"See?" she cut him off. "All we're here to do any way it plan, so they don't need us right now. Just sleep and relax, albeit we're a few days away from an all out battle." Keller felt no need to try to persuade him; it hardly mattered if she had company in her slumber. Drowsily, she heard a sigh and the lonely flap of the entrance of the tent.

Galen squinted against the sun. Dawn had arrived just an hour before, and turned the dark blue banks of snow into blinding hills of whiteness. The tents offered little shelter, considering they were the same shade. Funny, he had never thought he would need sun block on an ice cube of an island. Everybody had arrived now, all there was left to do was last minute training, impromptu battle plans, and the antagonizing task of waiting.

~*~*~*~

December 30, 1999

This was it, the big showdown. Mari walked silently to the top of the snow hill and observed the Night World army below. Many were lounging about smoking, drinking, or catching up with old friends. The vampires, shape shifters, and werewolves didn't mind the cold. Virtually no witches. Everyone showed little sign of worry. There was no doubt in their minds who would win against the pathetic goody goodies. Only the older and wiser citizens pondered the outcomes of the Final Battle. 

Somewhere across the vast and blank island, Circle Daybreak was camped out also. But in there camp, there would be warmer tents, more fires, and anxiety. Thoughts of loved ones so very far away. 

_They shouldn't be here,_ she thought with quiet desperation. _They know what happens when they only have three Wild Powers, they know… It's certain, it's finalized, without me they die. They should be with their families, not freezing on an island just to die a brutal death the next day._

"But at least they're trying," she spoke quietly. Mari hoped nobody would hear her. Somewhere, deep down inside her, so deep inside she wasn't sure if her soul mate had seen it, she was struggling. Maria wanted so badly to run to Circle Daybreak's side and cry a million words of apology. It was eating her up, slowly burning her from inside out. She knew she had a chance to stop all the pain now, to prevent the deaths now. But…Mari let out a sob, letting no tears run from her eyes. Feelings of loss, emptiness, the feelings of despair and worthlessness beat and battered her attempts of redemption.

_Nothing_, her internal monsters would say, _nothing you can do. You're just a pawn to stop the mad and corrupt world. You're nothing don't try to stop what you're meant to be. You came from a nobody you are a nobody; there's nothing you can do…_

God, she had tried to stop listening but it was her mind. It was her mind, the one thing that kept her alive in the cruel world all this time and she always listened to it. Proof was all around her. Beautiful supernatural people who looked so wonderful and trustworthy, only hiding a core of evil and deceit in their hearts. The good were the weak and tomorrow they were going to be devoured by evil. Any true goodness and pure hearts were destroyed because they carried cumbersome consciences and moral judgments. Mari didn't want to live in a world where the surviving fittest was evil. The good would never win.

~*~*~*~

Same day

Briar Creek Oregon

"This is the first time I've been afraid of a New Year." Mary Lynnette jumped at the sound of Mark's voice. She hadn't heard him approach the top of the hill. He sat next to her on the car trunk.

"I try not to be afraid, you know," he continued when she didn't respond. "I try to say to myself, the good guys will win, they always do. But then I think of Jade and how strong she is…if the bad guys are stronger than her, we don't stand a chance."

Mary Lynnette looked down from the gray sky and studied her brother. In some ways, he was no different from the little boy scared of the world. Scared of the bad people in it and hurrying to her side when troubled. But this time it was different. Mary Lynnette didn't have a solution to his problems just as she always did in the past. Mark knew that but still came to her on her special hill.

"Mary Lynnette!" He snapped suddenly. "God, I mean I know that now you have a soul mate you can't talk to me about things but you don't have to give me a silent treatment when something important comes up. You" he paused, shrugging with a helpless air, "you never talk to me any more. We used to discuss important things with each other and how we were going to solve it together but now…" He shrugged again and put his head in his hands. "Now, I just want to have a real conversation with my only sister before the world ends."

Suddenly it became so clear to her. For the past year or so, she had let Mark deal with matters himself, so she could adjust to the arrivals and departures of the man who made her whole. He grew up, but still needed her. Despite any changes, despite all the ordeals the two shared together and apart, one thing would always stay the same: Mary Lynnette was his big sister and she would take care of him no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, she said what she thought she should say to her scared younger brother. "Mark, the world won't end."

"Really?" If it was a lie, she didn't care. As long as it kept him safe and happy, she would do it or say it.

"Yes, really. Besides, the planets aligned months ago and nothing happened then. This is just a little bump in the road…" And the real conversation began.

~*~*~*~

Las Vegas Nevada

"When is my big brother coming home?" The little boy, Simon "Simba" Savannah, looked up at Gillian with big brown eyes. It was the first time after their story telling, Twister contest, and SEGA tournament that the children began to wonder where the grown ups fled to. Some of the older kids knew they were off to "negotiate worldly matters," and, since they were sworn to solemn secrecy, spread the ambiguous knowledge to the younger gullible children.

Gillian opened her mouth to ask who exactly his brother was but sighed. It didn't matter; if he wasn't helping with the children, he was most likely off to Gilligan's Isle.

"Didn't you hear the rumor of negotiating worldly matters?" she asked him, hoping to give an answer without lying. He nodded.

"But Lionel says that I shouldn't listen or spread rumors because 'they only leave you alone on Saturday nights.'" Gillian smiled as he quoted his older brother's words of wisdom.

"Well, Simba, sometimes the truth can hurt just as much rumors do. Let's just say your brother is going to a very important meeting."

"What's the meeting about?" He asked as she rose to leave. Gillian wondered worriedly if there were any more inquisitive eight year olds. 

"The meeting is about people's rights, or so to speak." He looked puzzled, and then he lit up with realization.

"You mean like freedom of speech?" _More like freedom for humans in general._ She nodded and he ran off to show off his news to his friends.

There were less elder witches than expected, for although aged, most of the witches were more powerful than some dragons and were needed at the battle site. More Daybreakers had to be called in to baby sit the children. Thankfully the children cooperated obediently, even waking up early to make breakfast and bathe themselves. Unfortunately, she had to salvage what was left of burnt toast while David ran like crazy to stop the naked wet toddlers running amuck down the hall ways. 

For the next two hours, she was too busy to answer any questions pertaining the missing adults. There were children to clean up, feed, clean _again_ after the food fight, change into pajamas, and tuck into bed. When she was done sweeping up the last bit of dinner rolls from under the tables, she wound her way through the halls to find most of the young and fit in the living room.

"You arrived just in time," David said as she snuggled next to him on the couch. Dick Clark appeared on the giant screen, thousands of people behind him. Gillian observed the silent people surrounding her. For millions, New Year's Eve was a time for confetti, kisses, and champagne. But for them and their friends and family, it might have been the last moments of their safe world.

~*~*~*~

Sunset

Damned Clan Island

__

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The Circle Daybreak army marched silently through the snow with grim faces. Wind beat fiercely about them, yet remained silent. There were no words to describe the fear and determination in their minds. 

__

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Snow banks were grayish blue in the fading light. Ears with unnatural range picked up sounds of laughter as they neared the battle field. For some, they took steps closer to their graves.

__

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Thierry felt jovial thoughts before he saw who thought them. He felt like Jack, trying desperately to outsmart the giant. Except this time the prize was much more valuable than a golden goose. He didn't know who the hell he was trying to fool. Elder he may be, Circle Leader he may be, thousands of years he may have seen…but he had never led an army. And he had never gone into war.

__

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

But he'd be damned if he let his followers know how scared he was. "I do not think we'll have a determined victory." His loud declaration startled his troops behind him. He continued his brisk march, never turning back to face them. "I do not think we'll defeat the villains with a mighty blow. I do not think we'll destroy these bastards in a few hours."

__

Crunch.

They reach the edge of the basin. Thierry turned toward his group, the people who knew the odds were not in their favor and yet stayed by his side. His friends, his only family left on earth.

"I do not think we'll win. I _know_ we will." Trepidation written on their faces washed away, revealing solid ferocity. Some were fighting for lost loved ones, some were fighting for son or daughter or sibling in Las Vegas. Some were fighting old friends, some were fighting former allies. Some were fighting their own flesh and blood.

With a last deep breath, he looked at his comrades eyes. Kestrel, Jez, James… He suddenly realized he would rather die than let anyone harm them. With speed formerly reserved to protect others, he turned and swiftly started down the slope of the basin. Others followed seconds later, forming a v formation. 

They waited for five whole minutes before running up to meet them. It was an obvious show of arrogance. The dark Night Worlders stood with smug expressions on their faces as they waited for Hunter's signal. At his slightly raised eyebrow, they charged, fangs or claws extending. Bodies became taut and furry. 

He sent out orders before Night World could hit. At Thierry's command, the most powerful vampires sent out psychic punches to the approaching beasts. Cheetahs, jaguars, tigers, bears…all fell to the ground. Their bones cracked under the rushing feet of Daybreakers. Hunter copied his move. Thierry spread his thoughts to humans surrounding him, but a good number of humans, 'wolves, and shape shifters on his side momentarily collapsed as witches and vampires blocked the psychic abilities.

Daybreakers broke the v formation to surround the Night Worlders. Night Worlders saw this and rammed and killed the engulfing arms of fighters before they could completely surround. 

Thierry blocked the woman's sword with a crushing blow to her wrist. She evaded but fell to the ground on her side. He was knocked on his back by her kick as she jumped up and pulled out a wooden knife. As he took a moment to shake off dizziness, she lunged onto him. At the last second, he put his feet up and kicked her off as soon as she tried to land on him. He jabbed a pressure point in her wrist and caught her knife as she lost all control in her right hand. When he rose, she lay a few feet away from him. He spied a rock under her head, which explained her short episode of confusion. Before she could blink, he stabbed her in the heart. 

Just as he slid the knife out, another vampire choked him from behind. He grabbed the arms around his neck and flipped him forward. Thierry began to run towards him before he saw the end of a wooden sword thrust through his back in mid air. With her foot, Kestrel pushed the skewered vampire off her weapon and winked at him. He really didn't approve of her taking crucial seconds to smile at him, but he found himself smiling back. They were both vampires, whether they liked it or not, fighting was in their blood.

Rashel stopped struggling as her captor squeezed all air from her lungs from behind. Her feet were dangling but she couldn't get an angle to kick him. Summoning all her strength from her air deprived body, she tensed her neck muscles and jerked her head backwards. _Crack!_ She pivoted mid air and landed on her feet to face him. In a split second she observed his bloody nose and snap kicked his body to the ground, his silver dagger still held pathetically up. Before she could lunge, she heard running behind her and caught the 'wolf in human form by her shoulders. He sailed through the air and landed directly on the vampire. Ironically enough, the wooden knife he held in his hand killed the vampire, while the vampire's silver dagger pierced through the werewolf's side. She would have taken a moment to admire her handy work, but a bear shifter charged blindly at her before she could even smile.

Poppy didn't think it was fun to kill. But, it was even less fun to die. So she fought with all the tricks Rashel taught her, and sometimes coming up with her own.

Right now, she had to dispatch a pure white tiger. It was so pretty, it almost broke her heart to fight it.

"Come on, Fluffy, you know you want it," she cooed . He snarled and pounced on her. She fell at the sheer weight of the animal. He pinned her arms to the sides, making it impossible to grab her knife. He pulled his head back to bite her neck, and Poppy took the moment to stiffen her body to a crescent shape. She rolled forward, but there wasn't enough room to bash his head. So instead, she spit into his eyes. With a furious roar, the tiger backed off, pawing at his face. Poppy did a triple forward flip and landed behind him. In the midst of his transformation to human form, she thrust her razor edged knife between his ribs. It was her first kill. Poppy hated it and loved it.

Jez knew the elite of Night World warriors was waiting their turn for her. Being a wild power gave her the privileges of battling the most impressive fighters of her past life. Now she concentrated on blocking her opponent's blows. Iron clanked against wood as Jez calculated and blocked the vampire's wooden sword with iron sickles she'd stolen from an unrecognizable burnt body. Every offensive move she threw was also calculated and blocked. Damn, he was good. She whirled on one foot, letting her left foot knock his head aside. Instead of falling, however, he did a one hand cart wheel and landed, facing her vulnerable back. Before he could do so himself, Jez fell purposely to the ground, then rolling from the sword that stabbed the frozen ground next to her head. She grabbed the sword's hilt, and pulled it towards her, allowing her access to the man's arm. In his surprise, he failed to surmise her next move and Jez stabbed the sickle through his fore arm. He yelled in annoyance and stood up. She scrambled off the ground and shook the snow from her hair. Much to her disappointment, he simply tugged the sickle from his arm. The blood stopped flowing and the skin closed over the gory hole. _Idiot!_ She realized belatedly. _It's IRON!_ She would have slapped herself in the forehead if she wasn't so preoccupied.

Now it was just his beautiful, hand crafted, ash wooden sword against her pitiful sickle. _I might as well reap wheat fields with this thing, it can't even scratch him,_ she thought, and for the first time her beautiful face showed worry. The vampire gained confidence. He rushed at her with speed she lacked without blood and swung at her neck. Jez jerked her head down and forward, praying to Goddess the world wouldn't end with her decapitation. Her ears rang as the rounded hilt banged the side of her head. Jez ground her teeth in pain as she lay on the ground. Her adversary was so intent on stabbing her throat he did not notice her desperate fumbling for her last weapon. He raised the sword above her head. 

__

Click. Oh the sweet sound of victory.

Jez pulled out her Snub Nose 48 and released the safety. Without hesitating, she pulled the trigger. He lurched and his pupils dilated, completely covering the whites. With a strained groan, he fell to his knees, skin drying, and flaking even as his body grew cold. Time for the next victim.

Keller dodged the bolts of fire easily, playing a pyromaniac's game of hopscotch. The dragon was obviously furious by being outsmarted by a lowly panther. Keller gave a laugh, a deep rumble from her panther throat. A bolt hit her right hind leg, the smell of burnt fur making her nose twitch. Now it was the dragon's turn to laugh, puffs of smoke escaping his wide, reptilian jaws. The dragon reared his golden head to build up more fire. It was a bad idea to hang his head so low. With a powerful paw the size of a grown man's head, Keller swept her paw through the deep snow, the snow hitting the target: straight into his mouth. Of course it didn't permanently damage the built up flame, but it did choke him. Both shape shifters shifted into human form. Unfortunately, both had Keller's height, shape, and face.

"You're going to be sorry for that, bitch," the clone spat. 

Now if there was something that Keller could not hold her patience for, it was being called a bitch. First of all, no self respecting woman who worked her ass to be the boss could ever be a bitch. Secondly, bitches were female _dogs_.

"Oh am I?" Keller walked slowly to the imitator. Not her usual approach, but the anger in her affected her tactics. The dragon moved first, swinging a fist but hitting air. Keller ducked and gave an upper right hook. And then she drove another punch to his nose. "Did you spend so much time playing dragon…" she said calmly as she grabbed his long, blue black hair and twisted his head. "you never got to learn combat fighting?" Keller number two continued to spit out obscenities. Keller pulled the hair even farther down, then kicked his back with her knee. She smiled as she heard vertebrae snap. She morphed her right hand into a huge black paw. 

"Oh and by the way." The claws slid out swiftly. "I am _so_ sorry." Blood spurted from the pale white neck. While he changed back to the golden haired man and choked for air on the ground. Keller slid her knife from her sleeve and proceeded to cut the four horns. The process dulled the knife, but it was of little importance, for she had more weapons on her than Morgead's closet.

Thierry wiped the blood from his mouth. One by one, he felt a Daybreaker s' minds go blank like snuffed candles, due to death or unconsciousness. The sun disappeared behind the waves of snow. Darkness was ineffectual to him, but he worried about the human's night vision. It was time for his next vital decision.

__

Witches! One by one, dark silhouettes appeared on the rim of the basin, forming a wide horse shoe around them. Distantly, small balls of orange flames appeared in their hands. Like fireflies, the hazy fires floated down into the sunken valley, meeting and melting into one bonfire at the center. A floating conflagration gave more confidence to Circle Daybreak. Thierry's troops began to battle with new vigor. But in their new found passion, they also made brash mistakes, decreasing defense for offense. Again, Thierry felt more candles blown out. He sent the witches more commands. 

Abruptly, the werewolf he tussled with dropped mid lunge. A neat hole still smoked between his eyes. Silently, he thanked his lucky stars for Claire's suggestion of rifles and silver, iron, and wooden tipped bullets. And that Iliana was up on the edge of the basin with the other witches and not in battle.

~*~*~*~

Hunter had perched Mari upon a hill just above the basin. All who died could gaze up at her, their last hope staring coldly at them. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes, and she could feel the snow gather around her ankles. A familiar scent carried through the gales, Mari closed her eyes. As if watching those who cared for her die weren't enough punishment, she was forced to see herself in the eyes of one true angel.

"Mari," Hannah said softly. Mari turned slowly, eyes wide and apologetic. Relief surged through Hannah when she saw Mari's sorrow. The young girl was not the heartless creature Delos thought her to be. But the sad tears in her eyes were no help to Hannah's plan. She imagined that in her confused friend's mind, there was no hope for the world. 

"Mari," she began, "Mari, why are you crying?" Cautiously, Hannah extended her hand to take Mari's own. She shivered, not from the weather, but from the lack of life in Mari's limp hand. The tiny frail fingers were as stiff and dry as a porcelain doll's. 

For the longest time, neither spoke. Howls and cries of the war beyond them sounded hollow and inconsequential to the two young women. Then Mari let out a small sigh.

"Hannah," she began in a voice so soft, Hannah wondered if she spoke at all. "Hannah, I know why you're talking to me. But, even if I do help, what would I save? People who don't care for one another. A world so full of hate and prejudice, love and kindness is considered ridiculous. Everything is mocked or destroyed, nothing is sacred. Everybody hates one another." Slowly, Mari faced the bloody battle, pulling Hannah to her side. Hostility and abhorrence on each face proved her words.

"But, Mari, if you don't help us and if you let them win, don't you realize what will happen? New races with more hatred and violence will dominate. Then, and only then will the world will be destitute of kindness…" her voice trailed off. Mari wasn't listening, or she refused to comprehend. Hannah felt her retreating farther into the safe vaults of her mind. She had no idea what her friend experienced for the past months. Hannah studied her, wondering if Mari could ever recover from the mental wounds her loved ones caused. All hope sunk from Hannah's heart as she realized the only person to convince Mari to help was Mari. Now all she could do was comfort her, and even now she didn't want that.

Hannah squeezed her hand, hoping to convey all the sympathy she held in her heart. "Mari." Hannah's voice was unsteady. "I can't force you to do what I feel is right. Only you can do what you want to do. You're a grown girl now."

__

You're a grown girl now…

~*~*~*~

"Fifteen seconds left on the clock, and the crowds are great! Let's ask this gentleman right here…" Dick Clark was the only smiling face in the dark living room. Gillian squeezed David's hand.

"Ten…"

~*~*~*~

California

"Phillip," his mother whispered. He joined her by the window. Mobs of people were running past the apartment complex. Phillip pulled his mother away from the window and pulled the curtains close. 

"It's okay, they've already evacuated this part of town. They won't look here." Phillip closed the lights and lowered the thermostat. For extra measure, he hung Christmas silver bells over all the windows and doors. 

"I thought you said all the bad people were on the island." His mother settled worriedly on the couch.

"I thought I was right. I shouldn't have invited you here. I mean, LA is bad enough but now vampires are running loose."

"It's okay, Phil. I couldn't spend New Year's Eve alone any way, with my workaholic husband off to Japan. We'll just stare at the TV, and pretend we're watching Dick Clark. And hope that our friends and family don't get hurt by these hoodlums." Phillip smiled at his mother's term for possibly the most dangerous animals on earth.

~*~*~*~

Damned Clan Island

Gwendolyn Marks gazed down at her baby girl, eyes full of admiration. Mari watched the two, wondering how they glowed with golden illumination. The baby gurgled and laughed, reaching with tiny fingers for her mother's necklace.

__

You're a grown girl now. Such a big little girl. You're going to be beautiful, you're going to break men's hearts, you sweet thing. You're going to meet the right man just like me…

"Mari! Mari, say something." Who was that…oh yes, Hannah…

__

…love songs. Endless love songs in your head. Would you like to hear my favorite, my little Maria?

"Mari, stop before you fall!" Rude arms desperately grabbed at her clothes. She shook them off like an irritated lioness.

__

Your father taught me this song. And I'll teach it to you, when you're a grown girl.

"Maria Tybal, please, please stop, stop right now!"

__

Let's sing it together.

Together.

Mari saw him in the heart of the violence, his hair crimson with the blood of his victims.

__

We'll sing it together.

In the whole chaotic field, there was no expression so evil as the one on Valdis' face.

__

No matter what, we'll be together and we'll sing to ignore the big bad world's bad guys, right Maria? When you're old enough, I'll teach you how to sing and stop the pain in this world…

~*~*~*~

"Nine…"

~*~*~*~

The coldness that held her limbs so rigid melted from Mari's body. For the first time in months, a flame burned in her eyes. 

__

Stop the pain, Maria.

She saw Valdis bash Trent's head to the ground, and then kicked his side. A cruel smirk twisted his lips.

__

Stop, Maria.

Suddenly Valdis stopped and focused on a girl a few miles from him. Mari followed his gaze to a slender, willowy woman. Hair like midnight and eyes blank as the snow around her. The Maiden held her arms up, maintaining a great sphere of fire over the heads of the valiant soldiers. She wasn't supposed to be down there; she was deliberately disobeying Thierry's orders.

__

Maria, you're going to break men's hearts.

Mari knew what he was going to do. She had to stop it, before he could get to Aradia.

~*~*~*~

"Eight…"

~*~*~*~

She jumped. Then air rushed up at her, the ground came closer and closer. "NO!" Mari refused to fall, she needed to be farther, she needed to save Aradia. 

She closed her eyes, cursing all things that might stop her. _Damn gravity, damn Hunter, damn Valdis…_

The air stopped rushing and she heard the groans of the dying. Her eyes still closed, she concentrated on Aradia and Valdis.

__

Damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Dorian, damn Aradia for standing so close to the fighting…

She felt as if she was running for her life, but her moving feet touched nothing. Her lungs burned for air, despite the deep gasps she took. Heat burned up and down her back as if she rolled on hot coals.

__

Damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Valdis…

Bits of ice nipped at her face, droplets of blood appearing where the frozen pin pricks hit. Victory cheers and defeated howls suddenly quieted to a strange hum.

Mari opened her eyes, and found that Valdis standing a few feet from her. Her eyes would only focus on him, everything else was blurred and sped by. She didn't slow down. Valdis turned his cold eyes to her.

__

Damn Valdis…

"DAMN YOU!" Her fangs elongated so fast she bit into her lip. Sweet blood ran from her mouth. Valdis still did not move.

Mari collided with him, her hands clutch his shoulders. His eyes widened as her teeth gnashed into his throat.

~*~*~*~

"Seven…" Gillian spotted the older children, peeping from behind the double doors. Some how, Gillian knew that they found out where the adults were.

~*~*~*~

Ash held Mary Lynette close to him, hiding his worried face from her parents.

"Six," Claudia chanted excitedly.

~*~*~*~

Mari wrenched her head from him, tearing more skin with her teeth, as two needle like fangs sunk into the soft flesh of her neck. She let out a small whimper as Valdis' teeth burned into her own.

__

Stop the pain, Maria.

Both collapsed to the ground, still intertwined, and the snow cushioned their fall. Mari spat, his blood forming crude shapes in the snow. Unlike the expected sweetness of vampire blood, Valdis' was bitter, and scorched her mouth. Unexpectedly, the blood blackened, and dark puddles of obsidian oil flowed toward them both. Mari could only watch with horror, for the lack of her own blood weakened her. 

Jez felt the knife through her shoulder but decided to leave it in case its removal spilled more blood. Already, she felt a sticky substance seep through her jacket. She teetered to the ground, hoping whoever wounded her assumed she was down. Vaguely, she wondered how many seconds left of the millennium.

Delos needed more space to attack. But he heard growls and soft footsteps from behind and before him waited three murderous vampires and one impatient dragon. Right now he wished his petulant "baby sitters" were still on the job. He stepped back, only to jump forward when the puppies began to snap at his heels. Then one vampire, a sadistic guard that he recognized from the Dark Kingdom, smiled. Delos detested vampires who insisted on showing off his canines.

"If you want a fair fight, let's do it one man at a time," Delos ordered quietly. 

He watched as their muscles tensed, waiting to pounce. The flashy vampire said, "Who said we wanted a fair fight?" Delos felt the wind get knocked out of him as the wolves lunged at him from behind. Merciless claws tore through his clothes and skin, while their sickening pants warmed the back of his neck. He struggled to throw them off, but one mangy flea bag managed to sink its teeth into his leg. Delos screamed in agony. Gaining pleasure from his pain, the jaws locked and it shook his head side to side furiously, as if trying to tear his leg completely off. So intent was his concentration on the mutt's death lock, Delos barely registered the devastating kicks to his stomach, courtesy of the kind former employee.

~*~*~*~

"Five…four…three…" Mark sat on the floor in front the TV, wondering how the joyous crowds cheering with Carson Daly on MTV could be so ignorant to the oncoming doom.

~*~*~*~

Iliana desperately pressed her hands to her ears, in a vain attempt to block out the horrible, cold guns and rifles. She drew back from the firing militia as the gun made thunder pounded into her head. But the booms wouldn't weaken or cease, making her clench her fists. Her nails dug into her soft palms, small red beads falling from her hands. She gazed at the people around her and below her. She never understood how the other Daybreakers found weapons beautiful, no matter how ornate. The guns, the swords, the knives…all were disgusting, Iliana hated the sight of them. They were made to hurt and to kill other in the most torturous ways. There could never be beauty in instruments of hate.

She could no longer bear the cries for help that would never come, searing her to her soul. _How could I stand here, in safety, when I have the power to stop it?_ She could feel the power bubbling through her entire being, its intense electricity igniting tiny bolts from her delicate fingers. Death was a travesty when he took just one loved one, but no words could describe it when he touched thousands. She had to stop it. Iliana summoned the blue fire.

~*~*~*~

She couldn't see.

She couldn't hear.

She couldn't breath.

She couldn't move.

But she could feel. 

Some where in this

Dark

Dark

Dark

World, some one was holding her.

Someone was clutching tightly on her shoulders. It was him. This was not his mind, nor was it hers. It was somewhere midway. She couldn't believe the black nothingness was apart of her. Neither could he. It was a space reserved for hurting each other, and enjoying it. 

The nothingness shifted, washing over and under them, spilling _through_ them. He let go of her shoulders, but…did she have shoulders? Did she have arms, legs, or the meaningless flesh that hid her soul? They were gone, as if they evaporated out of existence. She could do nothing but feel, just as he did. 

Deep in the recesses of the black void, she searched for it. She didn't how to look without arms or eyes, but he helped her. It was as if they were one mind, their thoughts tangled in a sable fusion. 

His swelled eyelids prevented him from seeing anything except hazy, slow-moving forms. Yet Delos sensed a powerful branch flashing towards him. Before he could discern the source of energy, he felt a spark at the tip of his finger. It ran with a cold shiver up his arms, down his abdomen, and surged through his legs. The blue fire exploded with unbelievable intensity in his mind. Power, sheer power blinded him, and stopped of his breath. He was dimly aware of the werewolves jumping, or rather, falling from his back. The pain was unbearable, as if the entire Night World army jabbed at him with lightning bolts. Then he realized the simple solution, so distinctly clear that he wondered at his stupidity. He set it free, releasing it as if it had a mind of its own. 

It didn't matter where it went or who was hit. This was right, this was the way it should be liberated. The blue fire never truly belonged to him. It was a gift, poured into him at birth so that he would deliver at the foretold moment. Now he must continue its journey.

There were tears in her eyes. In the beginning, it was fun, it was a meaningless game of practice combat. But…she started to see the faces, and the thoughts behind them. Jez slew a woman who thought she fought for a world that would protect her children from the humans. Jez burned a shape shifter who sought peace with humans before, only to be nearly killed with vehement prejudice. Jez wished herself back to the ignorant idea of "Night Worlders bad, must die now." Knowing the selfless motives of her opponents lulled her to a quiet, constant cry. Tears rolled silently down her face as she killed one after another, blocking all thoughts of sympathy from her head. 

It called out to her. Jez turned her back, heedless of the man who brandished a heavy hand ax. A bruising, maybe even skin splitting blow landed on her back. It didn't matter. A blue light swam under the combatants feet, aiming for her. Jez ran to meet it, hoping it was the end to all this pain. But she never remembered reaching it afterwards. 

__

There.

Where? Please, help me find it. There's no more time.

Right over there, very, very deep... 

And it was. There was a dying blue flame, sitting patiently in the black cavernous heart. Gingerly, she cupped it in her hands, cradling it like a baby. Rough hands covered her own. The flame grew…until it burst, destroying the blackness to shreds. Blue fire tore free from its shackles, heedless of physical boundaries of skin.

~*~*~*~

"Two…" Phillip clutched his mother tightly, praying to any god that Poppy was safe.

~*~*~*~

They floated, but against their will. Aradia, saw this, she actually _saw_ this, but could not utter a word. Iliana did not appear as the jolly angel she was but as a fiery goddess of vengeance, struggling to stand safely on the ground again. Delos hung in the air limply, as if he had been pinned by a nail. Jez was unconscious of her surroundings, her eyes closed in deep meditation. And Mari…

Aradia looked to the fourth pillar of Blue Fire. But as soon as she did, she turned away, the glow burning so brightly in the air Aradia feared she was blinded again. She couldn't see a single distinct figure to suggest Mari was in the amorphous black light. 

The Wild Powers did not call upon the blue fire; it called upon them. 

Aradia watched in silent awe, whilst others fought obliviously, as the flames that engulfed them shifted, forming four beams that shot toward the center, where her floating bonfire burned brightly. She felt the atmosphere still and contract, as if it waited for the moment to come. The shafts of fire stung her eyes but she could not turn away. 

Iliana's light touched the fire. Then Delos, and Jez. Just as the fourth bolt came, Aradia turned away, her eyes dry and burning from the heat.

~*~*~*~

In a pale blur, Timmy ran over and shut off the television. With solemn, round eyes, he surveyed the silent room full of the baby sitters and children and said one thing.

"One."

~*~*~*~

Heat. 

Fire.

There was no sound but there was an explosion.

That all heard around the world. 

A silent blast.

The valiant fell.

The evil collapsed.

Aradia felt her skin burning.

She felt her lips freezing.

The world fell away from under them.

So all they had was each other.

Then, in the silence of the turmoil and joy of an organization's defeat, there came a single, faint cry.

"We won."

****

"Cause, everyday there's a war to fight

And if I win or lose never mind

As long as you're my shelter every night" Shakira


	4. Frozen Fire 4

Disclaimer: The Night world and its characters belong to L.J Smith. The song from "Guys and Dolls."

Frozen Fire 

It was too thick and dark to be water. He flailed, and thought his limbs were moving as fast as possible. But the parts of himself that he could see in the murky ocean moved slower than he could believe. Time was stretched here, wherever here was.

Refusing to sit about and wait for any major events, Valdis began to kick, propelling himself with comparatively fast speed. He wasn't sure if he swam in the right direction, but at least he was doing something. There were warbled sounds, sometimes sounding like words, other times it sounded like jangled music notes. 

Then, unexpectedly, there was no heavy fluid surrounding him. Unaware he had shut his eyes, Valdis blinked and blinked again, squinting against the harsh brightness. It was music, and there was an angelic voice carrying on with the lovely tune. Curious, he tried to discern where he was and who could help him out. 

__

Your eyes are the eyes

Of a woman in love.

And, oh, how they give you away.

Why try to deny you're a woman in love?

When I know very well what I say?

It appeared he floated in a vast ocean, and completely full of transparent ice floes. When he took a comprehensive view of the floes, he saw they formed an intricate tessellation of sorts, with the dark liquid seeping through the seams. Everything that surrounded him was dark, yet the sky shone so bright a white he wondered how the Damned Clan Island's climate shifted with so much difference in the light. The female voice reverberated, her song full of crescendos and decrescendos. The clear ice floes seemed to sway with the tune, as did the waves that surrounded him.

__

I say no moon in the sky

Ever lent such a glow.

Some flame, deep within, made them shine.

Those eyes are the eyes of a woman in love

And may they gaze ever more into mine

Tenderly gaze ever more into mine.

"Where the hell am I?" He whispered, his throat feeling coarse and parched. Everything stilled. The sweet lulling voice stopped.

Valdis dragged himself onto an ice floe, wondering at the ice's burning iciness. It was as if something fiery lived within. 

"Why are _you_ here?" a small girl demanded. Valdis settled himself into a more comfortable position and faced her. He was completely dry but did not stop to wonder why. Nothing made sense in this world.

"Maria!" He sputtered at the sight of her, while she sat calmly Indian style on the floe next to him. She tilted her head to the side with her narrowed eyes studying him, as if she could surmise the answer by his appearance. 

"What am _I _doing here? What are _you_ doing here? I bit you…you're supposed to be dead!"

"WELL! If all you have is negative comments, you are not allowed to be here." Then she sighed heavily and rested her head in her cupped hands. "Here we go again. All we do is bicker." Again, she studied him from head to toe.

Since he wouldn't break the silence, Maria decided to speak. "Is this what you saw before?" When she saw the puzzlement resting on his face, she continued, "When we touched. Did you see this in my mind?"

Valdis was incredulous. "This is your mind? I thought we were blown away from the Damned Clan Island." She looked at him expectantly. "I've never really took the time to learn about your mind," he admitted. "The first time, when you were unconscious, I entered and left as soon as possible. I…I found the fact of our relationship repugnant enough. I could hardly stand you as a person."

The bright sky darkened to a malevolent gray. Just as Valdis looked up to discern the cause, it lit up again as if veins of lightning had shot through.

"Well, I have no right to be disappointed for I thought the same towards you. What did you see the during the other encounters?" Maria almost seemed pleasant about their situation.

"I didn't. There was a block of sorts, each time we made contact. At first, I believed it was an advanced skill of your psychic abilities, but then I realized if you had that sort of capability, then I should have it also." Maria did not face him; instead she circled about, absorbing the view of the endless watery hills of ice. Her body remained still, it was the irregular block of ice that pivoted sluggishly.

"Yes, well, it's one of my talents. To speak the truth, it's my only talent; to block out others. Not many others can do that perpetually…"Her voice trailed off. If Valdis hadn't known her for a year or so, he could have sworn by the holy Goddess she was ashamed of herself.

"I _am_ ashamed. What I mean is… You are the way you are because it is customary in your society to have such a hostile persona. But I, I have no true reason to be so apathetic towards the world." She held such contempt for herself Valdis found himself pitying her.

"You were lied to by your family," he offered. Maria shook her head.

"No, the Yolkens weren't lying. Mother believed I was truly her flesh and blood and therefore adamantly claimed me as her own. And, even in the event of doubt, what mother could turn away a helpless child? If Carol knew, it was kind of her to support me, not cruel." 

Valdis made another attempt. "Your true mother…"

Maria interrupted again. "Yes, it was unfair for her to die so young. But others have dealt with their parent's death without resorting to a complete shut down emotional attempts. I simply gave up too soon, so any grief or sorrow I have brought upon myself for not trying to change at all." Her smile was simple, and her tone matter of fact. "I was spoiled and selfish to believe the world would change just because I became a pessimist. In order to change the unsatisfactories of life, you must take action to remedy them, not complain, or surrender to the circumstances."

Valdis was at a loss for words. The strange, optimistic philosophy was so unlike Mari Tybal he wondered just how much blood he took from her. "And you received this epiphany because…"

"Because I did. Epiphanies don't appear because of a certain act or reason. They pop up, like mushrooms." Maria began to hum the same soporific tune she heard earlier. 

Valdis began to contemplate her words. He certainly didn't need any lessons on "action, not reaction" idea. Here he was, in the thick of the battle, fighting for what he believed in. Maria's voice broke into his pondering.

"But," she chirped loudly, talking to herself more than him, "in order to start my new resolution, I'll have to depart from here. Perhaps, someday, when I've done my shining good deeds to compensate the harm I've done to others, my mind won't appear so barren and destitute of feelings." While he listened to her, Valdis failed to notice the dimming of the mental cavern around him. By the time she stood, appearing ready to fight an army single handed, the line between of the huge walls and the sea of thoughts could barely be distinguished. The slabs of ice quivered, threatening to sink into the ocean. 

Panicked, Valdis turned to Maria for aid. But she appeared placid, undisturbed by the growing instability. She raised her eyes from the nearing waters, and met his gaze. There was glassy shine to them, and a serene tranquillity washed over face.

"Just let go." All light fleeted from her mind, allowing the dark swallow it completely.

Valdis jerked his head up, only to realize he was not drowning. He looked down, and saw a small body of a teenage girl acting as his cushion. Maria was so chilled and blue she was scarcely recognizable. Two large punctures blemished her slender neck. Surrounding them was a pool of blood. Whose blood it was, he wasn't certain, but he knew Maria's condition was far worse than his. Hoping to find help, he glanced around, only to find himself in another white cavern. But this enclosure held suffocation instead of void. Originally, Valdis believed they escaped to her world for a few brief moments. But it must have been hours if there was time for a blizzard to coat around them both. Furious at Maria for shaking his beliefs, he tried to study her just as she did to him, for an answer. 

For a moment, for the briefest of seconds, Valdis had believed every single word she had said. Yes, the world was cruel, and true, people were harsh. Maria had thrust the thought into his mind by simply complaining and lamenting these curses upon earth made him or her no better than those who made the living hell. It was simple as the saying: If you see a crime being committed but do not try to stop it, you help commit the crime yourself by allowing to continue.

But her appearance contrasted her optimistic look. The cadaverous visage seemed to show the product of all the malevolence the earth had burdened her. He wondered why the bite marks on her neck hadn't disappeared, and why her body allowed the below zero temperatures to affect her so. She should have healed instantly in her resilient body, just as he did. Yet there seemed no chance she would survive. No longer was she the stalwart, independent, and stubborn woman he detested. Here, lying underneath him, was a spindly, gangly creature who looked more fragile than a butterfly. A dead butterfly. How ironic, to sacrifice one self for a world that she had sought to spend the rest of her life changing. 

"Innocence is the first casualty of war," he quoted somebody or other out loud. Here, this apocalyptic war had created innocence in _the_ pessimist of all pessimists.

Valdis stopped his wandering thoughts and focused. He could either allow her to become another casualty of war like so many of his comrades. Or he could…save her, erase her memory through extensive reconstruction, and live happily ever after…a plan so foreign to a murderer such as himself that he did not know the means to go about it. What could he do now?

January 3, 2000

It had snowed for two days without a single stop. It was as if Mother Nature couldn't bear the sight of war, so she graced the horrendous blood with white powder. The blizzard drove them unwillingly to the tents. At the first sign of softening, many went in search of their friends. 

Keller flipped over one decaying body and then moved on to another. Each second was crucial. Blank eyes met hers with each corpse she overturned. Some of the faces were charred beyond any recognition. Other remained forever frozen in their flawless bodies, yet still so strange, and alien that there was no sign that the creatures were ever alive. The sight of old friends broken or slashed to death twisted her insides to extreme pain, but there was no time to mourn. She had to find Galen.

He was supposed to be with the left branch that failed to surround the Night World. She was too busy to notice at the time, but Keller was later informed that the branches were brutally broken and obliterated. Many who were involved in that particular battle tactic had died. 

Ignoring the bitter winds trying to derail her from her search, Keller heaved another body onto its back. "This one's a Daybreaker," she called to the wandering witches. Keller stepped aside as an elderly witch, mid thirties, began his healing spell. Spotting a hint of blonde hair under a bank of red snow, Keller sprinted quickly to the inert form. Only to find Trent's frozen body in her arms.

The bond was getting weaker. Keller could feel his thoughts, as if they were brushing against her skin like butterflies, but they were fading by the second. She had to find him before he was gone forever. 

Keller tripped over a foot and landed face down in the snow. She was about to rip it off for stalling her from finding her soul mate when she saw _whose_ foot it was. Still on all fours, Keller scrambled to Galen's side, who was buried under a foot of snow. Losing all coherent thoughts from her mind, Keller frantically scraped away the hard packed snow. With each handful of rocky ice, she could fell his presence shrinking away and his consciousness deteriorating. Sobs racked through her chest as her fingers became numb and clumsy with the raw, choppy ice.

__

Two days. He had been under the snow for two days.

_Goddess, please. Please, oh please oh please, oh please. Not him, not my husband. I'll stop swearing just please, oh please, oh please, not him. I'll start praying to you more if you let him live. Just let him live and I'll do anything you want. Goddess, oh Goddess, Goddess, oh Goddess please, just let him live._

"PLEASE!" she cried hoarsely to the unfeeling gray sky. His upper body was exposed now, snow filling every cavity from in his jacket to in his ears. Hands shaking with fear, she let her fingers grasp his. 

There was no link.

"Oh Goddess," she cried again. Suddenly she was angry. Why him? Why him, of all the people, why him? Somewhere on the cowardly enclaves were some Night Worlders still breathing, still living, for goddess' sake, but She decides to kill Galen? Galen, the man of peace, the man who gave up his stoic beliefs to fight for all of man kind, Galen deserves to die? There was no atom of common sense in the universe, there was no sense if Galen died.

Keller grabbed his shoulders and shook him furiously. His head simply lolled with her movements. "Dammit," she snarled, ignoring her previous oath to Goddess. "Dammit, Galen wake up. Wake up, you can't die now. You can't die now that we've won." There was no response. 

Galen was taking his last breaths. Keller could feel the last traces of life slipping away from him. His face softened a bit, as if he told her not to worry, that it would be okay after his death. All strength and anger left her.

"Don't do that Galen," she whispered, brushing the snow from his hair, and hugged him closer to her. It shocked her to feel how cold he was. "Galen don't say good bye yet. You can't leave me here."

He didn't want to either. Keller knew he wasn't strong enough to from direct thoughts, but just fleeting feelings. Galen didn't want to leave her but he couldn't find the strength to fight it. The slight rises in his stopped.

Keller pulled back from him. Goddess, he looked so angelic and peaceful. It wasn't right. _Why should he be at peace when I'm going through hell without him?_ She needed him, and there was no way she would give up.

"Galen please. Galen, wake up. You can't leave me. You can't leave me with the baby." Keller hardly knew what she was saying. "Please oh please oh please oh please oh please don't leave me. It would hurt too much; please don't leave…" She lost all control now, dropping Galen from her arms. Rocking back and forth, she hugged herself, trying to remember the feel of his embrace. Gone forever…

The feel of his lips against hers, gone forever. His laugh to never be heard again. His smile no more admired. Galen…died.

Keller brushed away the arms that tried to comfort her. Damn healing witches. They had no idea what she was going through. "Just go away, please just go away," she tearfully whispered. They said a few more meaningless words of sympathy and left her crouching in the snow, alone with the corpse. With no others watching her, Keller began to cry louder, unable to swallow the lumps in her throat. She didn't want to feel incomplete for the rest of her life, but now she had no choice. Galen died, despite all that she said, he left her.

Again she felt irritating arms attempting to mitigate her sorrow. Unable to muster enough anger, she simply leaned into them, not caring who held her so tenderly. _I have to depend on others now_, she realized dimly, _now that I don't have Galen._ But even as she thought this, she shook the arms off. Keller wasn't ready, not ready to accept it. _If I had arrived two hours, two minutes earlier…_

"It wouldn't have made a difference." Keller's head snapped up, looking for the person who dared to read her mind, especially at a time like this. But there was nobody around her, save a few lurid bodies. Slowly, fearing disappointment, she lowered her eyes.

Galen laid very still, like a broken doll. But, if she looked very carefully…his eyelashes moved. It wasn't the wind, she was sure of it, it had to be him…

Keller found herself staring into his beautiful eyes. For endless moments that seemed to stretch into centuries, the husband and wife simply gazed at each other. Then, with great effort, he opened his mouth and whispered very quietly:

"You're pregnant?" Before she could nod, he closed his eyes and passed out.

~*~*~*~

Camp site

"Where did the wood hit?" Kestrel refused to wince as a witch dabbed a wet cloth at her wounds. Well, not so much dabbed. She seemed to stab Kestrel's thighs with a strange viciousness for a nurse.

"It didn't hit at any particular spot, Thea. The wooden ax fell, or smashed rather, onto something very hard, and the splinters went flying every where."

"I don't believe it would have exploded if it fell on a rock. At what point of the battle did this happen?" Kestrel rolled her eyes at the interrogation, knowing it wouldn't pinpoint the exact reason the lower portion of her body was full of tiny toothpicks. Pretending to contemplate to Thea's suggestions, she looked about the their miniature hospital. Despite the battle leaders assurances of Circle Daybreak's of victory, they obviously didn't think too optimistic of their numbers. It was absolutely enormous, most likely the size of three circus tents combined, although held together for a more serious reason. Kestrel finally focused on Thea's flapping lips when she began to repeat herself.

"Well, the last thing I did was take care of a wolf who was using Del's leg as a chew toy. Who, by the way, was nowhere in sight. Ouch, dammit! You're a fu…" Thea gave her a warning look. "…freaking witch, couldn't you find some hocus pocus that didn't sting!" The middle aged witch muttered some words of apology, but her expression suggested everything but sincerity.

"Ow! Fuck!" She yelled when the supposed healer roughly slapped a cloth full of the stinging liquid on her thigh, where embedded splinters were bent. 

Kestrel shushed immediately when others, presumably those who wandered in search of loved ones, passed through the flaps of the tent. And there were also some who carried in limp bodies in their arms. One girl, Lupe, appeared to hang on to life by a thread. They wore grave expressions as they reported the dead and the injured to the shifter in charge of the attendance. Soon, a long line appeared in front of the makeshift desk, forming along the walls. She had spent so much time waiting for medical help (after Quinn forced her in there) and then finally receiving it, Kestrel was surprised to see dusk falling on the snowy hills.

She strained her hearing senses towards the desk of gloom.

"Raven Mandril…dead."

"Thank you," was the solemn reply. "Next."

"Valerian Stillman…dead."

"Thank you. Next."

"Lionel Savannah dead."

"Thank you. Next."

Then came some sobbing and faltering voices, daybreakers who hadn't fully accepted the reasons for their friends' deaths.

"Tina," sob, sob, "and Warren," sob, sob, sob, "were at the edge of the basin," sob…

Kestrel almost rolled her eyes, the gravity of the situation holding her back. Whoever was bawling at the desk should have waited to collect herself and _then_ report the deaths.

"And they," sob, sob, "almost escaped. But," and here there was an _enormous_ inhale, "they were killed."

The man at the desk had more patience with the girl than Kestrel could have in her little toe. That is when she wasn't hunting. Kestrel watched and observed distractedly to pass the time. Some came with one death to report, others with ten. The "thank you, next" phrases disappeared as most expressed the desire to sleep. With only one day of battle, it felt as if they would have centuries of exhaustion.

Maybe that wheel chair idea wasn't so bad, Kestrel thought as she limped out the door. A few bystanders outside the exit gentlemanly held the flaps for her. Just as she vouchsafed a rare, non predatory smile of thanks to them, a blur of blue parka and black hair knocked her flat on her back. The rolled out linoleum did nothing to cushion her fall.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are, running like there's some damn ghost…" Kestrel soon ran out of expletives while the same men who held the flaps for her helped her up. "…shit, that just undid all the damn work that fucking witch just did…" But those around her were too preoccupied to acknowledge her ranting or too fearful to look towards her. One boy who helped her up, James she guessed, laughed at her anger. Ignoring this, Kestrel took a breath, looking for the unlucky bastard who knocked her down. She wasn't in any condition to fight right now, but she sure as hell could put him or her on her hit list for later months. 

"Sorry, Redfern," a woman's voice called to her, "but I don't give a damn about _your_ condition right now." Kestrel narrowed her eyes and scowled at Keller at the east end of the infirmary. But the panther was too ecstatic to notice, hovering over somebody in a hospital bed. Most likely Galen.

Kestrel pondered this as she made her way to her own tent for some shut eye. She could have sworn Winnie came earlier to report his death. As she cautiously laid herself onto the warm, wobbly bed, she thanked the blessed soul who thought of using the Night Worlders' cots.

Quinn peeked through the tent flaps as quietly as possible. Good, she was sleeping. As Ash's best, possible only, good friend, it was his duty to watch over and protect all annoying little sisters. When he saw her in the training fields, he almost ran out to her, stuffed her in a box, and sent her to Briar Creek as a belated Christmas present. If it wasn't for the upcoming battle and Rashel's words of wisdom, he would have done exactly that. Via email, he sent Ash a promise of her protection, but it did not make him like her more. Even _before_ she had run away from her parents' household, Quinn abhorred her uncompromising determination. 

He sauntered to his own tent when he heard Rashel call for him. His step was less graceful than the usual pace, but wood poisoning in his left ankle could not be cured instantly. As he cut through a sloppy line gathering around the entrance of the clinic, he listened to one girl's words at the front.

"I'm sorry, Kyros, but Nissa's…gone…" Quinn did not bother to listen to the rest. He knew Nissa, but he did not understand why it affected Kyros, the arctic fox shifter in charge. _Oh yes_, he remembered, _they were dating for quite some time now…_

"John!" He turned to the startled voice on the other side of the powdered path between the tents. Before she could say any more, Quinn crossed over and whisked her back into the tent, which was comparatively large because they roomed with other strategists. Rashel wasn't injured, but it wouldn't do any good to have her catch pneumonia. "How did you know I was looking…oh right your ears are…better. I don't know why I still can't get used to that. Any ways, I asked Morgead where you were and he said that you were peeping in some girl's tent. Anything I should know about?"

Quinn smirked and laid on a cot as Rashel began to pack their clothes. "Not really. Just checking up on the brat."

"The brat?"

"Ash's little sister. You know Kestrel, blond, skinny…" He paused, searching for another word. "…bratty."

Rashel looked up from the mess of plans on the table. "Kestrel is hardly a brat, John. You should have seen her moves out there, absolutely precise and…creative, which I suppose is a fitting word. I don't believe there's any reason for you to protect her." Rashel became irritated when Quinn scratched his head and yawned, not at all bothering to even _pretend_ he heard her. She picked up a pile of his clothes and threw it at his head.

Quinn remained still under the heap of clothes, wondering what action he could take without looking like a fool. Deciding there was no way of avoiding embarrassment, he sat up and threw back his clothes. Rashel evaded them easily. Their small game of dodge ball continued until Thierry popped his head in and ordered them to quiet down or he'd separate them. 

"You're going to knock your tent down, not to mention the others'." He struggled to keep a stern expression as the two bursts into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, head of the organization that defeated the Night World, trying to be the baby sitter of two full grown employees. He sighed and headed for his own quarters.

Abruptly, he felt a familiar presence by his side and wrapped his arm around Hannah's shoulders. He had sworn in anger that he would never speak to her again if she appeared, but found himself babbling a million words a minute the second he found her on his cot. 

"So," he began after a comfortable silence, "are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

"I've already told you," she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "I simply spoke to her. Just like I told Delos, and, despite the immeasurable doubt, I succeeded in curing her."

"Where is Delos by the way?"

"With Jez, Poppy, and Iliana, sharing their experiences in the intensive care unit. So you could guess where Morgead, James, and Winnie are. I've decided not to tell Maggie about Delos' condition until she had the opportunity to visit him."

"And about curing Maria…"

"Mari," Hannah corrected, feeling somebody should since the girl was nowhere in sight.

"Whatever. How do you know if she's even all right? There's not a trace of her any where, Hannah, not a single trace. All Aradia described when she visited the place Maria was last seen was…what was it? Oh, right, 'a pure sense of evil. Absolute evil.' If that's where Maria was, I highly doubt you've done any good."

"But you don't know if the evil was radiated from her. It could have been someone else… I'd rather not brainstorm tonight, Thierry. Let's just get some rest and worry about it, oh let's say, a week from now."

"How do you know she won't be dead by then?" Thierry held the flap for her and walked in after her. In the complete darkness, he could still see the complete faith of her friends shining in Hannah's eyes.

"Because, Thierry, Mari is a survivor."

~*~*~*~

Six months later…

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Darling, sweetie, kitten, my hand…" Galen grimaced as the grip only tightened.

"I am delivering our baby to the world," she snarled as another contraction came and continued. "And you are worrying about your hand." For a moment, she appeared to calm down, and then another wave of pain washed over her. Since she couldn't very well yell at the midwife, she faced Galen at her side. "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOUR HAND?"

Galen yelped at the same time as her fingernails dug into his skin. "You know, you're right, I'm selfish, I should be thinking about the baby…ow, ow, OW!! Dammit, that hurts," he muttered under his breath.

Keller glanced at him reprovingly. "Don't swear around our baby. I don't want the first things it hears to be bad words."

Winnie ran through the door, holding a plastic cup in her hands as if it was the Holy Grail. "It's okay, Galen, I'm here for her. Here, Keller, chips of ice always seems to calm down humans." She was obviously ecstatic to play nurse.

Keller snatched the cup out of her hand and threw bits of ice at the both of them. "I don't want damn pieces of ice! Out, all of you, right now! No wait not you," she called in a somewhat gentle tone to the midwife. Actually, it was imperious and commanding, but a vast improvement compared to the tones she used with her friend and soul mate. 

"If that's what you think is best, then I think I should go. Come on Winnie." Galen rushed out quickly, towing Winnie behind him. Obviously the part of playing nurse had lost its appeal, for she was out of the room before he was. Out in the hall way, they listened with impatience for any infant cry.

"Come on, Keller, push. Don't forget to breathe, now push…"

"Will you stop telling me to push! I _know_ I should push and I know how to breathe, you push and see how hard it is!"

An hour and ten minutes later, a soft mewing could be heard from the room, and Galen cautiously peeked in. There lay Keller, still flushed and radiant from the ordeal of labor, cradling a small bundle of blanket in her arms. As he walked over, Galen spied a tiny head of blonde hair, and alert unblinking blue eyes.

"It's a boy," she whispered, lifting it up to Galen's view. He spent endless minutes staring into his son's eyes, while Keller looked up at the both of them contentedly.

Of course, periods of restful peace never lasted longer than an hour in mansion. 

"Whew!" Winnie swept in with a hand on her head as if she had done all the work. "Thank Goddess that's over! I was afraid I was going to burst." Keller raised an eye brow.

"Right…Thanks Winnie, I couldn't have done it with out you," she said dryly.

"Why didn't we just take her to the hospital instead of wreaking havoc here?" Iliana asked as she appeared at the bed side.

"And just how would we explain to the doctor if he came out with a tail and ears?" Winnie was rarely caustic, but when she was it was positively scathing sarcasm.

Iliana shrugged. "Mind control or whatever. I bet you woke up the entire city."

"Iliana, this is Las Vegas. Everybody is already awake at midnight."

"And if we were sleeping, we don't mind any way," a new voice called from the door. Nilsson smiled and suggested that the others leave and let her and the baby rest.

After checking up on the newest addition to Circle Daybreak, Nilsson was summoned to Thierry's office.

"You called for me?" Thierry sat at his desk, trying with obvious frustration to solve a colored cube. At the sound of his voice, Thierry looked up and threw it in the trash can.

"It was a stupid toy any way," he shrugged. "I hear that we might have hints of the whereabouts of Maria." Nilsson nodded.

"Yes, that is correct. According to the spies, a girl similar to her description is living happily in Marietta, Georgia."

"Well, if she fits the description, Nilsson, why not just go ahead and say it's her? We're all tired and reluctant to even go further in this mission. Hannah's the only one interested."

"Yes, Thierry, I know. You've been saying the same thing for the past six months."

"So why can't you just say this is Maria Tybal, she's alive, well and out of our hair."

"Because, Thierry, although she somewhat fits the physical description, she does not at all act like the Tybal we know. Reports say she has friends, dates, and a daily exercise routine. And we all know that she absolutely hated walking up the stairs," he reminded with a knowing smile. 

"We can't spend any more time on this," Thierry stated firmly. "If this is the closest case we've got, then so be it. Now all that matters is her safety. Does this city appear to have any Night World citizens seeking revenge?"

"No, sir, not in the least. And, if I do say so myself, I'm sure she could handle it herself." 

~*~*~*~

****

"Who discovered that you could get milk from cows, and what the HELL did he think he was doing at the time?" Unknown

It in no way whatsoever relates to the chapter, but I thought it thought provoking and hella funny!


	5. Frozen Fire 5

Disclaimer: All the characters and certain fictional supernatural organizations were created and belong to the author L.J. Smith. That was an unnecessarily long disclaimer wasn't it? :0)

Author's Note: If you haven't figured it out, I'm partial to the Yankees. And if you like any other baseball teams, congratulations but I don't care. Don't you come around reviewing because of my comments about other teams. This part mainly ties up some loose ends.

Frozen Fire 

July 5, 2000

The last thing he remembered was fighting tooth and nail. Abruptly, that memory shifted to awakening in a grayish white basin, half buried in snow, while more fell perpetually from above. It was frustrating not knowing what happened in between. All that he knew what occurred in the hours of his unconsciousness was the loss of the blue fire. The second he opened his eyes, the underlying current of electricity that ran in his blood since the day he was born was gone. For this reason, he could breathe, simply breathe as, not as an instrument to save the world and not as a savior to anybody, but as himself. Delos Redfern, vampire extrordinaire and nothing else. Literally, Delos stopped carrying the world on his shoulders.

But when he also awoke, the moments of this relieving discovery were short lived. At first, he believed for the rest of eternity, the world would suffer at the cruel hands of the Night World. After getting to his unstable feet, he saw bodies as far as his eyes could see. And, considering his specialized vision, it must have been an immeasurable number. 

Six thousand. Six thousand had died in action and in the following forty eight hours a blizzard froze their bodies into a glacial and massive grave yard. And yet the Night World only suffered, roughly, five thousand casualties. At least by Circle Daybreak's hands, that's what the witches said. He, and the others…simply stopped the rest in the blink of an eye. Those of Circle Daybreak survived, but all who sided with the dark were obliterated. An autopsy of one unfortunate soul showed cardiac arrest, but it would never be certain if that was how all the Night Worlders were affected. And Delos had never heard of selective blue fire.

Delos could still feel the tears freezing in his eyes at the sight of them. He should have been happy for their victory, but a Pyrrhic victory.

"Delos? Hello, I have caller ID so I know it's you…" Delos blinked several times, shaking himself from the memories.

"Maggie! Yeah, hi, just zoned out for a minute there…" He heard her fuzzy laugh through the telephone.

"Never in my life would I imagine you zoning out. What's up?"

"Hannah wanted directions for your new apartment and since you have a new cell phone number…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Delos, I thought we agreed it's _our_ new apartment. In fact, for some strange reason I remember you saying, yes it's our apartment darling…"

"Then you must have been dreaming because I _never_ said that. Besides, Mags…" Delos looked around him and continued when he found the hall way empty and heard nobody in the rooms. "It's _improper_." There was a long pause on the other line. In fact, there seemed to be a long pause in every telephone conversation they shared.

"Right… So, it's proper for you to sneak into my room at night when I visited Thierry's mansion but improper for us to live together. What, are you afraid I have germs or something?" Now she began to sound defensive and Delos could never win an argument when she became riled up. He could almost envision her hand clenching defensively.

"No," he answered patiently. "Bacteria cells don't kill vampires, honey. And even if they did, I'd live with you with antibacterial cream at hand." Somehow, that didn't come out as flattering as it sounded in his mind.

"Fine. I'll just take _my_ big screen tv and put it in _my_ car, and drive them off a bridge!" Delos pulled the phone away, but she still managed to do some ear damage.

"Okay, okay, okay, we'll review this. We're engaged, not married, but you propose to live together."

"Think of the mileage, the gasoline with sky high prices, that you'll save for not having to pick me up! And if you still insist upon not moving in on me, we'll just stop having…"

"FINE! Fine, Maggie, I'll pack my stuff today and I'll be there tomorrow. I promise, honey, just don't do _that_."

"Delos, calm yourself down. I had no idea that you enjoyed my _massages_ so much! Bye now!" There was a faint tinkly laugh and then the dial tone. Delos' jaw dropped open. _The little manipulator!_

On his way out, arms so full of boxes he could barely see ten inches in front of him. At his last obstacle, the massive doors of the main entrance, Delos wondered if there was a way to get a free hand to open the door handle and not unload his burden.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind and Delos heard the quick voice of Kyros.

"Hey, Del, thought things would move along faster if the door was open." 

Raised in the New York Bronx with an accent to prove it, the shifter made the hated nickname even more irritating.

"It's Delos, and thanks," he gave a muffled reply.

"I'm off for a new mission, thanks for asking. In fact, I'm one of the few who are, what with all the vamps and shifters migrating to their enclaves." Kyros talked rapidly and cheerfully, and, much to Delos' annoyance, switched subjects like a bee with his flowers. "I'm glad you finally moved in with Maggie. Don't worry, not eavesdropping just assumed from the boxes. Oh, gotta go, see ya around Del!"

"It's Delos and good riddance," he muttered. The boxes dropped in the trunk of the Montero with a thud.

Thierry's head whipped up of the swift steps echoing down the hall. Before he could set down the cinnamon bun Hannah _attempted_ to bake, Kyros appeared at the door.

"Hey, boss, how ya doin'? Cinnamon, huh, I don't really care for the spice myself, but if you like that sweetness, nothing beats nutmeg. Nutmeg will do ya a world of good, and it's not limited to deserts either. Of course, nothing beats chasing down a human in the woods huh, boss?" Thierry raised his eyebrows in alarm.

"Did I say human, I meant rabbit, and I don't care for bloodshed myself." The agent gave a disarming smile. "That last mission was so simple I was amazed that the vamps simply didn't stake themselves for cryin' out loud, that's how easy it was. What's next, mass suicides? Now, don't get me wrong, they're my kin, I understand we need to convert them or what not. But between you and me, I don't think we need those kind of chatter boxes in Circle Daybreak. These Night Worlders from the enclaves don't know nothing about the real world so they go on about embroidery, their yachts…Eh, who needs that? So what' sup now boss?"

Through the short chat (and Thierry knew from experience that it was a _short_ chat) he settled himself onto a divan. A young man of considerable height, with a wiry frame and reddish orange hair, brown bright eyes, and skin as pale the land of his namesake, Kyros Snow (of no relation to the Lady of the household) personified the summer Arctic Fox to the last detail. 

"There is a girl," Thierry began, unconsciously taking a slower rhythm than Kyros', "that fits the description of Maria Tybal."

"Her name? Cuz, you know, boss, I'm gonna kinda hafta know her name if I'm gonna go lookin' for her." It appeared that sarcasm was a prerequisite before entering Circle Daybreak.

He sighed a very tired sigh. "Her name is Maria Tybal…" Kyros let out a bark of laughter.

"Well, boss, I don't think we need to go checking her out if she's got the right name and physical features."

"We need to know if she remembers anything, or if her mysterious rescuer tampered with her memory. She just moved to New York to complete her last years of college and since you've been working for quite some time, this could be an opportunity for you to visit some family and old friends."

Kyros pondered it for some time, scratching his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I don't like to mix my personal life with the missions. You know how it is, if one slips away and follows me to my ma's house and then they know how to get to me. It's not safe."

"You won't be killing anybody on this mission, Kyros."

"Hey, you don't know that for sure. I could go to Milwaukee for some ice fishing and end up killing somebody. Life's unpredictable like that." It was at times like this that made Thierry wonder if Rashel and Quinn trained their men to be too prepared.

"Listen, all you have to do is befriend her, find out if she knows, subtly I might add, and then get out. She's new, so she'll be eager for new friends, I hope. Geez, Kyros, I thought you'd be grateful."

"Befriend her? You're asking me to get chummy with the little imp?"

"NO arguments. Out, now." What was supposed to be a quick day at the office began to look like back to back meetings. What was it about post Final Battle that made daybreakers so chatty?

Kyros raised his hands as a sign of surrender and slowly backed out of the office. Just when Thierry thought he was gone, his messy head of hair popped back into view. "You know for a guy who's thousands of years old, you don't have much patience." Kyros narrowly dodged the end of an envelope opener and sprinted out the mansion. What was it about post Final Battle that made the Elder so cranky?

~*~*~*~

July 7, 2000

Clayton, California

"I feel like the kids who tied up their baby sitters and kicked them outta the house." Morgead stretched luxuriously, making Jez shift next to him. It was a tight squeeze on the lawn chair, but it was cozy. The remnants of the Goddard barbecue still stuck to the grill. It was her uncle's idea to let Morgead try their new gas grill.

"I know. It was strange to know Quinn was watching our every move and probably making fun of us." Morgead gave a sound of agreement that sounded very much like a snore and Jez nudged him awake.

"I wanted to see Maggie and Del's new apartment. They're settling in Washington, you know."

"Yeah, I know, I don't feel like driving up all the way up there. Maggie's okay, but Delos annoyed me sometimes. He was too head strong, and he always thought he was right. Too damn stubborn if you ask me."

Jez's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Yeah, I'd hate to be stuck with a guy like that." 

"Hardy, har, har. Claire was bugging me about a wedding date. What the hell is that? We're engaged and we need to date?"

"No genius, she meant the date of the wedding. Do you feel like getting married in a hurry?"

Taking his silence as "I want to say no, but I don't know if that will make you mad," Jez continued. 

"I don't either. I like staying engaged for a long time, see how it feels. Then, when we're good and ready we'll buy me a dress, you a top hat, and take the last mile down the aisle. Okay?"

"Got it." His blithe tone showed happiness to her decision.

There was no hurry. After all, he was a vampire who could stop aging, and Jez could become a vampire if she chose to do so, though the possibility of that was slim to none. And both were certain to make the use of every moment they had together. Jez supposed the near end of the world had the same effect on their friends. 

"I hear," he began, "that Hannah's planning to organize little reunion parties at least once a year now that so many kids have moved out. Think anybody's going to come?" Morgead tried to visualize the mansion in permanent emptiness and shook off the depressing image.

"Probably not all of them, since everybody has their own life now and there aren't pests to take care of. And maybe it won't be empty all the time. Maybe Hannah and Thierry will luck out and be able to have children. If they don't, I remember Hannah telling me that she would adopt if necessary. I hate the picture of them alone in that giant of a mansion."

"Hey, speaking about being alone, I think it's high time we found Claire a boyfriend." Jez's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She's always picking on us about our relationship. ' Our' being the key word there."

"I think if Claire wants a boyfriend, she'd have one by now. She doesn't need out help, Morgead." Jez loved her fiancé to pieces, but not when he began to criticize and nit pick her family.

"See, that's the problem. She thinks she doesn't want a boyfriend, but all she needs to do is meet the right guy, and boom! They're in love. And I have the perfect man in mind."

Still suspicious but also intrigued, Jez said, "Go on."

"Philip."

"Philip North?" Jez began to laugh. "Philip North, you want to set up Claire with Philip North. Morgead, that's crazy."

"Why? He's close by, I'm told he's cute ( but, let's face it, he doesn't hold a candle to me) reliable, and willing to serve and protect a woman he loves. The last point was illustrated by his love of Poppy and their mother."

"You just described a puppy. How are James and Poppy, by the way?"

"Fine. Any who," he continued, "he's been hinting for some time that he's interested in her. At least, I _think_ he's hinting…"

"He must be ten years older than her!"

"More like four or something. He only _acts_ ten years older than her. Any way, I invited him over for next month's barbecue. Now all we have to sit back and watch the fire works."

"You're crazy," she said again, but Jez was willing to let the subject drop.

"Yeah, but that's why you love me." Jez opened her mouth to shoot out another jibe, but found herself smiling instead. He was right.

~*~*~*~

July 8, 2000

New York City, New York

"OOF!" All the heavy and, unfortunately, fragile books fell scattered all over the third flight of stairs. She hoped they wouldn't soak up the tracks of muddy water her feet left on her way up.

"Oh sorry, about that," the man who bumped into her apologized. With surprising strength for a man of his lithe build, he helped her off and swiftly retrieved all the books.

"I'm new to this neighborhood. _Bullfinch's Mythology_? What, do you have trouble sleeping?" She opened her arms to take the books, but he continued walking up the stairs and motioned with his head to lead the way.

"No," she said shortly. "It's my major. Mythology's very interesting actually, if you get past the strange names." Normally, she wouldn't have been so brusque with a man who just helped her, but he insulted Greek Mythology. Somebody had to defend it.

"Sorry." She spied an amused smile on his lips and found herself smiling back.

"No, I'm sorry. I mean, thanks. Thanks and sorry. I just find myself defending mythology to a lot of people."

"Well, I guess you have to delve a little deeper in the stories to get it. One look at the names like Hephestus, and I shut the book. I'm Kyros by the way, Kyros Snow. I'd offer a hand but, they're kind of full right now."

"Maria Tybal." Since his hands were taken, she patted him on the back. "No, don't go on," she said as he was about to walk up to the fifth and final flight of stairs. "This is my floor, the fourth. Kyros sounds familiar…" she murmured as struggled with the key and lock on an ancient looking door.

Kyros cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Oh is it?" Behind the rickety and creaking door laid a small and crowded apartment, full of quirky objects. The walls were yellow in an attempt to bring more light in the cramped space, the furniture blue, and the lamps, and other necessities had no connection in styles at all. But somehow, in the cluttered mess she called home, the mismatched objects worked to give the impression of a sloppy but educated child.

"Yes, oh, I'm sorry, come in. Kyros, Kyros…that means ice in Greek, doesn't it?" 

"I just always assumed Kyros rhymed with gyros and that was the only Greek connection. Tasty, too. Hey, you tell me. You're the major here."

"Would you like something to drink? Yes, I'm fairly certain that Kyros means ice. Ice Snow, I must say it isn't a fitting name, you look like a very lively fellow. And with that burning bush of hair I would have figured you were Irish." The way she looked at it made him unusually self conscious. He studied her as she searched for something in the cupboard. 

Still short, she had traded in the waist long jetty tresses for a tapered and softly curled do that fell just a little lower than her shoulders. Her once glowing amber eyes had calmed down to a bright brown behind sooty lashes. Full, lips that normally held a pout or indifferent stance now looked puckered and slightly chapped, as Maria appeared to constantly bite them, as if holding back words. On her left wrist, he saw faint pink lines zigzagging for two or three inches. It gave him a twinge of sadness when he realized that she reminded him of a shorter copper skinned Nissa. But then again, five months ago he saw a resemblance of Nissa in Ash Redfern. He assumed that now he was only reminded of Nissa in just females meant that he was leaving the delusional grief.

"Now that you've shown off your knowledge, it's my turn," he joked when they settled to the tiny table in the breakfast nook. "Tybal…Tybal…means princess, right? Well, I've never heard of a princess choosing to live in the dark tower." He gestured around them, referring to the limited space.

"Whatever works, ya know? I gotta bed, a tv, and a refrigerator. And then some extras. What more could you ask for?" The longer she talked, the more she started to sound like him. It was faint but noticeable accent of New Jersey.

"Ya got an accent?" He almost added that he never heard one from her lips before, but that would have ruined his plan.

Maria put a hand to her lips as if she just burped. "Oh, it slips out once in a while. I don't like it much, makes me sound like a thug. It's been forever since I've been influenced by my cousins in Newark. We used to visit there, me and my family, because of my grandpa. We used to visit every summer, since I was a baby…and now I'm talking too much so I'll just shut up…"

"So I sound like a thug? Thanks." For a moment, Maria looked perplexed, and then she laughed.

"I'm sorry, I don't seem to be myself. I mean, I just invited a total stranger into my apartment and insulted him. Do you go to NYU?"

"NYU? Oh, New York University. Nah, I've already done the college thing."

She smiled, probably wondering just how old he was. 

"Ya gotta boyfriend?" If anybody did erase her memory, he probably still hung around. And Thierry did mention something about that.

"No, no boyfriend. No friends at all, actually, I just moved here too. Listen, as much as I'd like to sit here and chat, I've gotta study and…"

"Study? It's July, there's no school."

"Yeah, but I've gotta catch up with everything I've forgotten. I always manage to flush out everything I've learned in the first week of June." She stood up and looked ready to see him to her door. "You're going to move in right?" It seemed logical, because she hadn't seen him around and why else would he be loitering in her building? "Well, then we'll see each other another time."

"Wait," he said, too urgently. Maria looked at him as if he were crazy. "Wait," he said in a calmer tone, "I could help you. You know, help you study."

"But you said that mythology was boring." Kyros began to regret his words and her tendency to notice details.

"Yeah, for you I might make an exception." The flirtatious reply came out before he could stop it. Kyros caught himself; this was Maria. Maria Tybal of all people. _Flirt with her and you might lose a limb._

Instead of blushing, Maria gave him a look that clearly expressed derisive disbelief. But she didn't refuse, she simply said, "Go ahead and try."

Settling once again in kitchen chairs, Kyros executed his mission, ready to leave as soon as possible. 

"Who is Delos?" Maria remained stone-faced momentarily before she smiled again. The act alone made Kyros surmise something life altering did in fact happen on the Damn Clan Island. 

"It's not _who_ is Delos, it's what. Delos was the name of a sacred island where the treasury for the Delian League, Athens' alliance with other city states, excluding Sparta. The Delian League freed Ionia from the Persians and also purged the Aegean Sea of pirates. Somebody had some god's kid there, but I forget…Zeus and…Iona. Am I right? Or somebody and somebody. See? Literary amnesia!"

Puzzlement was written all over his face. "Uh, yes, you're right." _I think_. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Who is Galen?"

"Galen was a Greek physician who provided the Romans with the basis for medical science. He dissected dogs and apes and discovered that arteries carried blood, but he also believed the liver digested food. His views were later proved wrong by Andreas Vesalius in 1543. Not exactly mythological though…"

_Huh, never knew that one._ "Does the name Jezebel ring any bell?"

"Um…the definition of a promiscuous, devious, and or all in all bad woman? That's not even Greek! Kyros, I thank you for your efforts to spark my knowledge in the miscellaneous, but I do need to study so if you hurry along now." By this time she was pushing him out the door.

"Wait!" He needed more time to find out if she was bluffing. _Damn, why didn't Thierry send a vampire to figure this out?_ "I know mythology…um, who was Cupid's mother?" The door slammed shut an inch from his face.

Then it reopened, but only a little crack to show Maria's small face. "In Greek mythology, his name was Eros and his mother was Aphrodite, fathered by Ares…or somebody. See you around!" The door shut for a final time. With a shrug, Kyros sauntered down the hall, whistling a merry tune. He fished in his pockets for his cell phone and a smoke.

"Are you sure she doesn't remember anything?" Thierry's voice was unusually urgent, for he had expressed little interest in this particular case.

"Pretty sure. Damn, I meant yes, absolutely sure she doesn't know anything. Now question in my mind. Dumb as an ox, blind as Aradia. Oops, sorry just got used to saying that, I know she sees now. Doesn't know a single thing…You don't believe me do you?" To Thierry, "pretty sure" and "almost certain" didn't cut it. Kyros remembered this far too late.

"We've just got wind of some vampires wanting justice for the defeat. And, ever since we've been finishing off the rest of the Night World, a strong case of…"

"Nationalism?"

"I wasn't sure if you could have nationalism without an established country. But yes, nationalism has been sweeping through the survivors of the Night World, and new leaders are seeking to remove the main causes of their loss. Circle Daybreak, and…"

"Maria, got ya. You know, I saw a similar situation after World War I. The underdogs won the war, and then they tried to quell the Germans. Big mistake, it just made them even more eager to win and thus, World War II."

"So you're saying we have to watch out for a blood sucking Hitler?" Kyros made his way to an alley in viewing distance of Maria's building.

"Hey, when was there not a blood sucking Hitler? It was a joke, you know Hitler was a bad man, blood sucking…" Thierry made no response. "Yeah, well not everybody's a comedian. I'm just saying ya better not try to kill their spirit as well. People willing to sacrifice everything for the mother country, or in this situation, the mother organization, are dangerous and unpredictable. Check out the Palestinian situation."

"Kyros, the people of the Night World were already unpredictable and dangerous before the Battle. Just pay attention because you're staying on this mission. If they find out Maria knows what she did and is living happily ever after, they'll kill her."

"They'd kill her any way boss, whether she knew or not." Kyros felt bored and tired and his voice showed it. He took a drag of his cigarette and continued. "Listen, I gotta go, boss."

"Are you smoking?"

Kyros snorted, "What's it gonna do kill me? Don't get on my case about smoking, boss, I get enough about that from my ma." He blew the smoke out his nose, getting a look of disgust from an elderly woman who passed him, and a look of approval from her cigar toting husband. With a single look from him, the mister seemed to say, _Enjoy and indulge while you can, boy, before you get married._ Distracted, the fox shuddered at the thought. Kyros guessed smoking was the only indulgence the man got in the marriage.

"Just find out, and send your mother my regards."

"No can do, boss. She hears about you one more time and she'll fall in love. Eager for options. You know how middle aged women get."

Actually, he had no idea, but continued. "Oh, are your parents having marital trouble?"

"Right now, they're getting along great. Dad's in Canada." Kyros took a quick glance towards her building, and saw that she had stood on the steps and hailed a taxi. "Boss, she's leaving but she said she was going to study. What do I do?" In his office, Thierry rolled his eyes. This was the first time Kyros was the leader of his own mission and he was evidently in need of orders.

"Kyros, what do you think you should do?"

"I…uh…I could follow her or search her apartment. Which one? Which one, which one…I could follow her and then search her apartment! Thanks boss, I gotta go."

Not bothering to use his motorcycle two blocks away, Kyros easily kept the same pace of the yellow car. Taking minute breaks to catch his breath, and mentally wishing he could shift into animal form without the danger of dog catchers, he watched covertly as she made several stops. A gym, a library, a hospital, a pay phone the subway (in which he selected a seat two cars away from her)…the chase finally ended in a rundown block of Jersey City. He watched from afar as she walked up to a three story apartment complex still decorated with Christmas lights, and ignored the whistles, cat calls, and vulgar invitations of the drunks and loafers on the neighboring porches. At her knock, she was greeted by an African woman who looked tired beyond her years. The two shook hands and stepped inside.

He leaned on a car, preparing to stretch his auditory senses to eavesdrop, when one of the men who petitioned Maria yelled out to him. 

"Hey, fag! Get your ass off of my car!" _Ah, the eloquent language of the Jersey streets, _he thought with a sneer. _But, then again, the Bronx wasn't much better._

The man, who almost overflowed out of the dirty wife beater he wore, took a full five minutes to simply stand up and glare at him. Kyros glared back vehemently, after all the man was interfering with his mission. He may not have had the muscles of other shifters, such as bears or lions, but he did have quickness and precision. Even without them, Kyros couldn't see how he could lose against this boar of a man. And, with six months without real excitement (for the missions had consisted of fleeing vampires and shifters, a pity really) a fight was readily anticipated.

The sweaty tub of fat saw the violent eagerness and verve in Kyros' eyes, and took a step back. "I wasn't gonna fight ya! Just get your ass off my car!" He supposed that was the closest to an apology he would get from him, so Kyros nodded and leaned against a rusty fence instead. _A fight would have distracted me any way_, he realized and turned all attention to Maria. Soon, after he struggled to block out all the other bustling sounds of the city, two faint voices filled his ears.

"…and I know this is probably the last thing you'd want to hear about. But…"

"Say no more, I know what you're getting at, and the answer is no. But I did know her, we lived across each other, in the worse part of town." He could almost imagine Maria biting her bottom lip again, for even he thought there was no way the city could be worse than the old, dirty, and decaying living conditions that surrounded him. 

"...and, despite my warning, she went any way. But the poor girl. She couldn't go through it, she made herself sick just thinking about it. Instead of going to the broker's apartment, she went to Teddi. So, technically, she never was one because she never really had a customer."

"So…why did she even want to be one?"

"Well, she never really told me. I assume it was family troubles, because the day she moved in ( I was helpin' her, you see) I handed her a picture of her and her parents to put on a table. But she told me, 'Martha, just leave that in the box. I'll take care of it.' But I never saw that picture again, nor any others. That's why they wanted to take pictures of you so much after you were born. She felt that she needed to fill the apartment full of pictures. It looked so empty without them."

"Oh…do you have them?"

"I'm sorry, but they were lost in the fire." Kyros heard the screech of a pushed back chair.

"Thank you for seeing me. I have to go."

"But don't you want to know about your father?" Maria sighed, and Kyros heard Martha pat her hand.

"You know you do. To move to the future, you have to know your past, honey. I'll fix something for us to eat. The children are sleepin' over at a friends house and those damn noisy idiots up stairs are away for vacation. If you call Boston a vacation…"

Kyros pulled back his senses and jogged back to her apartment. He heard various family fights along the way, only one out of eight were in English. A smile came to his lips when he thought of a cheesy Charlie Brown poster in his old Spanish class. It said something like "No matter what the language, everyone can understand a smile." He guessed the same went for obscenities and rude gestures.

It was pitifully easy to break in. For one thing, the lock was defected and could be simply unlocked by a credit card. And Maria forgot to lock it in the first place. He guessed what ever provincial town she came from in good old Georgia didn't have a high crime rate. 

It was a two bedroom apartment, but she filled one full of unpacked boxes. Kyros searched her bedroom, gingerly replacing all moved items to their original spots. When he first arrived, he assumed she had chosen her new home due to a lack of funds. But the girl had a wide range of CD's. A DVD player lay under the unmade bed, as did speakers and a lap top. She had draped an old table cloth over a television with built in VCR. He wondered why she didn't just hawk the valuables and move to a safer neighborhood.

At her tiny desk, Kyros did not use caution with the leafs of papers, for it appeared she did not either. The four drawers were stuffed messily with hundreds of notebook papers; some short stories, poems, and diary entries ripped out in anger or sadness. Music sheets to songs he had never heard of, dating back to the 1930's. Envelopes from Georgia explained where she received the funds. In the days when Circle Daybreak had her allegiance, it was known she lived with a wealthy aunt from the Cotton Land. Some papers lipped from his hand and stooped to pick them up. His eyes began reading before he could stop them.

_I am not tall._

I am not blonde.

I do not giggle inanely.

I am not built like Barbie.

My eyes do not wear blue eye shadow very well.

I do not smile for no reason.

I am not All American.

I am an individual.

Kyros found himself both smiling and scoffing. For some strange reason, he was happy she wasn't one of those girls who constantly dieted, or dyed their hair to be like everybody else. But it was far too naïve of her to be an individual simply for those reasons. _After all, who isn't blonde and built like Barbie_? he asked himself.

There were also extensive notes on hospital names, numbers, medical papers on a "Tybal, Gwendolyn Marks," and lists full of scratched out names. 

"Gwendolyn Tybal?" Kyros scratched his head. He wondered if it was a medical problem that his head itched when ever there was an enigma at hand. "Who is she, a sister?" He had never heard of any such thing, but then again Maria was a private person.

There were no signs of the past. No Christmas cards from Poppy or Iliana, no jewelry bearing black Dahlias or any other special flowers. The boxes in the other room held clothes, an amazing amount of clothes actually. Clothes, shoes, purses, jewelry…Kyros suspected Maria had a miniature department store in the loads of boxes. 

Then a nearly inaudible "damn" was heard just outside her rickety door. Kyros slapped his forehead. The fire escape was outside the living room, and, being a fox and not a cat, he couldn't jump out the window. He hoped Maria didn't feel any urge to continue unpacking for the day.

"Hello? Who's there?" There was an edge that he had never heard in her voice: fear.

"I know you're here, you left the door unlocked." Rolling his eyes, Kyros stepped from the shadowy room and into the living room. 

"No, _you_ left the door unlocked," he retorted, with her back facing him. 

"_OH MY GOD_!" Kyros caught the bat with one hand, wincing at the sting of it. _The girl has one helluva swing. _She began to shriek.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment, you sick bastard! You better…Kyros? Kyros Snow, is that you?" He jerked the bat from her grip and placed it safely on top of a book shelf.

"Yes, it's me. I…" _okay, think quick_… "I was stopping by to see if you wanted to go to dinner after you finished studying. But I found the door unlocked and decided to lecture you about it, but instead there was nobody here." Guilt washed over her face and Kyros mentally complimented himself for such a smooth lie. Almost as good as Blaise.

"Oh… oh, you see I _was_ studying I didn't lie to you about that, but I, I…I needed to, um, do something that couldn't wait," she finished weakly, nervously biting her lip. Kyros began to find the mannerism endearing.

Then he felt a bit of guilt himself, for he hadn't exactly been the picture of chivalry. "It's okay, I was gonna make you pay for dinner any way." For a few awkward minutes, they stood looking at each other, their minds blank for any starters of conversation.

"Why don't we just dine here? It's cheap and the foods' okay," she suggested with a shy smile, her eyes cast down. Again, the emotion was so foreign to Maria that he stared with complete surprise. 

Closing his mouth, Kyros forced a smile to his astonished face. "Of course. But how's the service?"

~*~*~*~

Thierry Mansion, Nevada 

July 17, 2000

Nilsson opened the door and found Keller struggling to keep her eyes open and making her son more comfortable in her arms and Galen, who dug in a cumbersome baby bag for something. The baby let out a wail before he saw Nilsson. Then he stared at him with wide eyed curiosity, smiled, and clapped with pudgy hands.

"How did you do that?" Keller demanded, eyes popping wide open. "I have gotten two hours of sleep and you have to tell me how you did that!" Keller was very near to choking Nilsson, and Galen restrained her before she could do much damage.

Nilsson, of course, remained calm and showed them to the dining hall. Hannah stood waiting to greet them, and she took the baby with delight into her arms. Again, he let out an adorable laugh and proceeded to plant a wet and sloppy kiss to her chin.

"Oh, isn't he a charmer? Why is his bib on his arm?" she laughed. Galen, who was resting his head on the table, looked up. With exhausted pride, he noticed that his son shined with youthful exuberance. His blonde hair floated around his head like a halo, although it was static from the car seat that made it stand on end and not divinity. 

"We were a little busy this morning. I wasn't paying attention when I dressed him," Galen yawned. All turned their heads to Thierry, who had just entered with a cell phone in hand. A look of satisfaction then bewilderment crossed his face as he paced back and forth along the large table. The others could only sit and crane their necks to follow his movements.

"You want to stay?" he asked with alarm. Hannah looked confused as well.

"Who is that?" Keller asked. 

"Just a minute, Keller," Thierry replied, thinking the question was directed to him. He listened for a few more seconds and sighed. In his round of duck, duck, he chose Keller as goose. "Here," Thierry handed her the phone, "he wants to talk to you."

Keller raised the phone to her ear and then smiled. "Yes, hello Kyros. I'm…terribly tired, the baby's crying schedule doesn't exactly coincide with our sleeping schedule… Yes, here's right here. Of course you can." Keller gently placed the cellular phone to the baby's side, who tried to grab it and use it a chew toy.

In New York City, Kyros smiled when he heard a squeal of baby laughter. "Hello, do you know who this is? It's Kyros! Marco…"

"Polo!" Their son yelled happily. It was unusual for a baby's motor skills to develop that fast, but then again their son was not a normal baby. Panthers and jaguars' offspring were fully developed in two or three years.

Keller put the rather wet cell back to her own ear. "Aren't you proud I taught him his name?" She rolled her eyes. Ever since Kyros discovered the little trick, he had been saying the same thing for five consecutive days. 

"It's not his full name. A. Poll. O. That is his name, Apollo. _You_ taught him Polo. There is a clear difference." 

"Hey, at least I didn't teach him pot ho." She gave an exaggerated sigh and turned the conversation.

"What's this I hear about you wanting to stay in New York City? The dump of all dumps?"

"Hey don't knock it till you've tried. This city is only one quarter dump, the rest is a great fondue pot of culture."

"You mean melting pot," she corrected flatly and took the cap off a bottle Apollo had been struggling with. When he discovered the tiny obstacle that prevented milk coming to his toothless mouth, Apollo threw it down in childish fury.

"No, I mean fondue pot. What can I say, I loved the seventy's cuisine. I'm staying on…personal matters."

Keller assumed it concerned his feuding relations. If there was anything in the Night World close to the Irish temper and liquor endurance, it would be the shape shifter clan of Snow. Kyros had once described the quintessential routine dinner at his branch of the Snow family: "You fight as you sit down to dinner, eat, fight while you eat, fight as you clear the table, get out the liquor and cigars, and then make up for all the fights of the past two hours." But, of course, that was only when he visited.

"Well, then I'll just work my persuasion skills to make Thierry let you stay." Keller smiled as Thierry made sharp negative gestures with his waving arms.

" 'Persuasion skills?' Keller, I want somebody to convince him, not put him in a body cast. Oh," his voice lowered, "I have to go, bye." She was left by the rude sound of the dial tone.

Thierry gave her a stern look and settled down to the lunch Nilsson set during the dual conversation with Kyros. Galen opened his mouth to question, but Apollo's catapulted spoonful of liquefied meat loaf splattered his face. The assault was so random, and completely unforeseen, that a few beats of shocked silence passed before Thierry snorted, unable to suppress it, and set off the others.

"That, as you could tell, was Kyros," Hannah said gaspingly after the laughter subsided, and Keller wiped at his face. "He was sent to the Big Apple to check Maria out, see how her memory's doing. But, strangely enough, we know she's blank but he wants to stay."

"Maybe he wants to stay a while longer with his family?" Galen suggested.

Hannah shook her head. "As much as they violently love each other, the younger Snows wouldn't spend more than three weeks visiting the parents." 

"What if…" Thierry chewed over his words, spitting them out with desperate reluctance. "What if…he actually, I mean it's possible that he…Goddess, I don't even want to say it…"

Keller was irked at his rambling. "You mean, what if he likes her?" All three except Hannah seemed to shiver in revulsion.

"She's not a disease," Hannah interjected, who defended all who were absent.

"Ditheathe!" Apollo echoed loudly. In a few more weeks, Galen expected him to develop the "z" sound.

"Yes, she is," Keller contradicted. "Maria Tybal is a rapid deterioration of the ability to trust and all cheerfulness every where. Besides, despite his solemn mood for the past four or five months, Kyros can be excessively mischievous. And Maria has a nonexistent tolerance for bull shit."

"Plus she's really, really mean," Thierry sputtered out succinctly.

"Mean!" Apollo repeated, banging his hands on his chest.

"Well, maybe she's changed!" Hannah replied hotly, and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Thierry belatedly understood why she became frustrated. Circle Daybreak, after all, had its fair share of unbelievable conversion. The three sat in shamed silence.

"Changed!" Apollo's face was the only to hold a smile.

~*~*~*~

July 30, 2000

New York City, guess the state

Maria bent closer to the mirror. Yup, there it was: an irregular round shaped bluish purplish spot resided on the right side of her neck. Martha had pointed it out over coffee after they heard those "damn noisy neighbors back from damn Boston" argue about their daughter's similar blemish. Maria couldn't really give any knowledgeable comments, for she never had a hickey and Boston had less than fond memories. 

She decided to remedy the problem with a sleeveless light blue turtleneck due to the lack of any cosmetic products, including foundation and concealer. Kyros was going to materialize any minute for their date. Maria was strangely blithe over that fact that she had a date. Those occasions never came in high school. 

She picked up a brush and began to run it through her hair. She always did her best thinking that way. Kyros seemed to literally materialize when she least expected it. She never heard his foot steps, never heard his breath, and never felt his presence as she did with everybody else in the city. _And what a charismatic presence it was!_

"Boo!" Maria jumped up, nearly smacking him up side the head with the silver brush. Before she could blink, he dodged it and took it from her hand. And there was another strange thing…his reflexes were similar to a wild animal. Maria smiled while he spent ten minutes laughing his head off. Normally, she found situations such as this painfully irritating but…well being her normal self never helped her before.

_Besides, he's funny, and sweet, and…doesn't ask questions. About my family, my link to Martha, or my scars, emotional or physical._ Maria commanded herself to be content for once in her life.

After he had calmed down, they walked out of the building. Surprisingly, they stopped in front of a motorcycle, instead of the Lexus he had been driving for the past three weeks. "We'll be going to Rao's tonight."

"I thought that was difficult, to say the least, restaurant to get into. And even if you have reservations, the owners let their old friends take your place."

"Yeah, well I got my connections. Strap your helmet on tight, oh and I forgot to tell you to wear your hair up didn't I? Oh well, you could just fix it before we get in." Before she could respond, they zoomed down the street.

_Great, I'll be going to this classic, sophisticated, and not mention celebrity packed restaurant with bugs stuck in my hair and mud splattered on my legs. Just great._

True to his word, they walked in without a questioning look from the host. Taking a booth in the corner, the two talked of pleasantries, then lapsed in to a routine silence. On every date they've had, Maria noticed that after the "Yeah, ma's doin' all right," there seemed to be no other interests. But she hoped that would change when she met his friends, and he met hers (after she made some at college, of course.) 

Only when the food came was she truly grateful for the silence. To her, any food that was concocted without the help of a microwave was a masterpiece to savor slowly. It was not often that one had a chance to dine at Rao's, so she spent dinner with wide eyes, drinking in the walls lined with autographed pictures of many famous stars. One she did not care for: Mike Piazza of the New York Mets. _Now if he were to ever end up on the Yankees, minus the facial hair, I'd appreciate his picture more._ Then she felt guilty for focusing on such matters, when on a date with such a thoughtful man.

The night was uneventful. The moon, that once looked so romantic a few weeks ago, hung dully in the air as if saying, "Yeah, yeah so you're young and in love. Big deal!" And, for some peculiar reason, Maria felt the stars shined for some other victims of _l'amour_. 

Kyros followed her up to her apartment without asking, as he had done the first time they met. It as an irking habit, but Maria felt it was his nature to be so presumptive and confident. This time however, the date ended at the door.

"Are you tired this evening?" Kyros had stared at her during dinner, while she took in the sights. Every once in a while, she would wince or sigh in impatience whenever she turned to him.

Maria was glad he unknowingly came up with an excuse for her. "Yes, I've been burrowing in my mountain of clothes for this top. Our last date left me with a little me memoir." Kyros peered to the spot where she pulled at her collar. She noticed his gaze looked lower than needed. Suddenly eager to see this date end, she gave him a quick peck on his lips, pulled out of his extremely addicting hug, and shut the door. Maria quickly skipped across the living room to wave good bye to him on the street. Funny how he got down there so fast. With the moonlight giving him an aura of goodness, contrasting the prankster inside, Kyros bent down on his knee like her Romeo.

"Good bye!" She called softly, for on this street, every body slept by eleven. He ruined the romantic atmosphere by pulling his ears, puffing up his cheeks, crossing his eyes, and sticking his tongue out, giving the effect of a retarded monkey. With a raucous laugh, he jumped on his 'cycle and sped off.

Despite his apparent immaturity, Maria liked him. "Like him very much actually," she told her reflection, but her voice was irresolute. "I do like him," she argued with herself and changed into night clothes. She thought the humid heat in Georgia was unbearable, but now she wasn't so sure. The pollution and concrete insulators trapped the heat in the city. All her flannel pajamas stayed in the packing boxes as she dressed every night in tanks and shorts of childhood. Mari would absolutely dread any surprise visit from Kyros after bed time; it would be impossible to make him leave in that outfit.

Still debating over her romantic feelings, she unplugged all appliances and checked the locks. After she made her usual rounds, she finally made her way to her bed room. She noticed something strange when she reached the door; it was closed when she was sure it had been left open. Maria narrowed her eyes, for this fact was firm evidence in what she had been suspecting for a month. Her apartment was haunted. The conclusion was the product of too many hours spent watching paranormal tv specials.

Taking a deep breath and giving herself a pep talk of courage, she swung open the door, flicking on the light switch. At first, there was nobody in sight. Then, in the shadows, or perhaps creating its own shadow, she saw somebody sitting in her chair. Somebody more frightening than any poltergeist could ever be. Some how, her voice found its way to her lips trembling lips.

"Valdis."

****

"New York is an exciting town where something is happening all the time, most of it unsolved." Johnny Carson


	6. Frozen Fire 6

Frozen Fire 

July 30, 2000

Briar Creek, Oregon

"Human, huh?" Mary Lynnette tried to figure out what complications the human body undergoes when shifting species. But, from what she heard, Maria was no fragile woman.

"Yup," Rashel confirmed. "How does this lemonade taste?" Mary Lynnette took a sip and scrunched her nose. Rashel waited patiently as she spit it out in the sink and drank gulps of water.

"Did you remember the sugar?" Rashel lit up at the mention of the forgotten ingredient. Her finishing touches to the lemonade were interrupted when scuffling and shameful curses were heard outside, beyond the porch.

The two girls rushed outside, leaving the before-dinner snack in the Carter's kitchen. In the storm cloud of dust, they could discern two male figures tussling in the dirt. Punches, kicks, and even fangless bites were used.

"You goddamn sonofabitch take that back!"

"There's nothing to take back you idiotic shitty bastard!"

Mary Lynnette tilted her head and studied the brawling friends just as a dog would tilt his head and studied a new toy. Rashel, however, was not helping in the least.

"That's it, John, you could take him! His neck is open to attack. The NECK not the head! Jesus, how could not see that punch coming! This is pitiful, absolute pitiful, how could you let him land that one! Use your legs to push off his weight! …for God's sake, punch him already, what are you waiting for the next millennium? Absolutely pitiful."

"Oh it's pitiful, all right," Mary Lynnette said dryly. Soon, the three sisters ran up, Mark in tow, and also became spectators to the match. Rowan threw her hands up in disgust.

"Why does he always end up doing that when he comes here?!" 

The younger two shrugged nonchalantly, then became Ash's cheerleaders, since Mary Lynnette refused to fulfill the position. Kestrel especially, for ever since the Neanderthal Quinn oversaw every single move she made in pre and post Final Battle with unneeded criticism, she had the growing need to beat the daylights out of him.

"Go for his weaknesses! Behind the knee, it's unprotected…WRONG KNEE IDIOT! Keep this up and even Jade will be able to beat you!"

"Hey!" Jade protested indignantly.

It wasn't until Mary Lynnette ran to and from the back yard and let them feel the full force of the water hose that they pulled away from each other. With heaving chests they stared at each other with barely constrained anger, and stood a foot apart. 

"Now, do you two asses care to explain what happened here?" Mary Lynnette, when she truly wished to, could be authoritative and haughty as a queen. Ash hated those moments. She cleared her throat when one simply stared straight ahead, seeing nothing, and the other kicked at a pebble. Both had their hands in their pockets and regret in their heads.

"He insulted your honor," Ash burst out suddenly, like the tattle tale child. "So, you see I _had_ to beat the jack off's ass. I just _had _to." Mary Lynnette stopped herself from smirking; she remembered the feeling of simply _having_ to do something.

"Bull shit! All I said was 'Gee, Ash I pictured Mary Lynnette to a beauty queen by the way you've described her before.' And then this dilhole starts pounding on me." 

Rashel intervened when she saw Mary Lynnette flare up at the insult Quinn directed to her soul mate. "Okay, jack off," she turned to Quinn, "calm down. And dilhole," she said to Ash, "chill out. We just have a communication problem. A beautiful relationship as yours cannot be destroyed by menial complications."

Their anger now appeared foolish, their clothes torn, and their faces covered with mud and dust. Neither of them made an attempt of apology, and their feet planted firmly in their spaces just as their stubborn attitudes were. The unspoken countdown was finally up and Rashel spoke.

"Fine. Then neither of you will enter either of these two houses," she pointed to the Carter and sisters' house, "unless it is to show us a poignant, sincere, and not to mention mushy apology." With an uncharacteristic toss of her hair, Rashel herded the rest of company into the Mary Lynnette and Mark's house. 

Inside, they enjoyed a scrumptious meal and lively conversation with each other. Mark and his parents were a bit baffled by Rashel's evasive yet truthful answers concerning her personal life, but the puzzle was soon forgotten by the laughter caused by Rashel's dessert: "whip cream pie." Mary Lynnette smiled amusedly at her over the table, and took a bite of her whip cream topped graham cracker. 

After dinner, all eight prepared for a game of charades when Ash and Quinn came in with a riveting performance. While Ash belted out "I'm Sorry, So Sorry," and Quinn listened with mock amorous eyes, Mary Lynnette and Rashel mouthed to each other, "Men!" Both sensed the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

~*~*~*~

July 30, 2000

New York City

She refused to pick up the phone. After several rings, modern technology took care of the annoying machine.

"Honey, why are you never home?" The voice softened with a Southern drawl seemed to clog every cranny of the room. She didn't hear the familiar lecture as it bounced futilely in her mind and remained simply meaningless. "…and ever since you've had pneumonia…I don't know why you let your friends talk you into a ski trip… I just worry about you, that's all…that sickness has lasting effects…we were playing bridge at the Smith's, you remember the Smith's…but then she said, 'No, no he's marrying his cousin'…and I tried this new color called raving rouge…and I swear I felt like the minister was looking right at me when he said those words…"

The voice of her dear aunt finally was cut off by the end of the tape. He still sat there, peering down on something in his hands. She struggled to remain calm and keep the fear away, for he, like wild animals, could smell it. It was a smell that told them to move in for the kill. And all she could do was stand dumbly like a deer in headlights and think. _Thinking without action never saved anybody's ass, genius!_ _Great_, she thought a moment later, _that vicious part of my mind is back. And I'm starting to feel like fair Rosamond when-_

"She found Phillip Tempest waiting in her Parisian tower," he finished for her dispassionately. "I doubt Louisa May Alcott knew she was writing for the future when she wrote of Tempest's chase of his love all over the world. And I have been chasing you, Maria, or shall I say fair Rosamond." He, indeed, seemed to be the epitome of villainous traits. But, unlike most villains or antagonists of novels, Valdis did not lurk nor hide on the shadows. Here, in her room, he seemed to create them.

_Oh dear god_. Simply the sound of his voice crashed painful memories before her eyes. Series of brutal fights gripped at her mind, and his voice mingled with hers pounded in her ears. There was little to do other than exert her pain through squeezing the door knob behind her. All her senses screamed for her to simply twist the knob, and run for dear life. For seconds, she wondered why she wasn't moving. Then she realized it; although she was terrified by Valdis , she was also extremely stubborn with him.

"But I," her voice taking a challenging tone that hadn't resurfaced in months, "do not intend to run. A distinct difference Mr. Eldson, " It was stupid, overwhelmingly stupid to _choose_ to stay in the same room with her future murderer, but for some unknown reason, her will for a fight overrode her common sense. She wondered if this would technically count as a homicide or suicide…

"Another difference," she continued when he still stared at the object in his hands. It was too dark to see whatever fascinated him. "is the fact that Tempest loved her."

"But it is a selfish love," he quoted, and smiled a dazzling smile. Maria had never seen him smile without malicious intent, at least directed deliberately towards _her_. "And my love is not selfish."

She stopped breathing. Literally, all air remained frozen in her lungs and dizziness leaped sporadically in her head. _Love? What love, there was no love between us._ Then, as always, the little tower of hope building in her collapsed when she used logic. _Of course_, she thought, _he must mean Pearl._

The object he had been toying with glinted a flash of silver. A million possibilities ran in her head. _A knife, a small ax, a gun, a Chinese star? Or it could be a…_

He laughed with disdain and shook his head at her. "You always were a suspicious little one." Valdis held up his hands to the light. Resting on his index finger was a silver, round disc…a CD. She involuntarily let out a sigh of relief, but then immediately tensed. _Hadn't one of the girls in _Carrie 2_ been sliced and diced by CDs?_

"I was reviewing your extensive collection under the bed and in the closet when I found this. Why on earth would you want a Simon and Garfunkel?"

She snatched it from his hands, careful not to brush against his slender fingers. "They're deep, which is more than I could say about you." Other than that, no other words came to her mind. And he did not seem inclined to break the stillness. She began counting the seconds.

"_Silence, like a cancer, grows_," he sang briefly, and laughed at his own joke. She wondered exactly what drugs he sniffed to make him sing to her. Valdis never even liked _talking_ to her in the old times.

"Now are you ready to have a serious conversation now, or is your head filled with more nonsensical ideas?"

"No, I am not," she replied curtly and briskly wriggled into an over sized flannel robe. Unhurried by his scorching gaze, she took her sweet time unfolding the cuffs so that her hands were covered. _There. No chance of skin to skin contact, except for the face. And there's a bigger chance of Clinton staying faithful than him wanting to kiss me._

And since no matching ski masks were available, she threw him a toss of her hand, like a queen prodding a dozing courtier. Irritation was evident on his handsome face.

"I spent six months looking for you. Well, five months taking leave from the world and one month asking your aunt about your whereabouts. She was very reluctant, she must have thought I was one of those "terble" "ferns" who brought you on that "distrasus" skiing trip six months prior." His tone suggested that his didn't exactly ask for the information.

Maria bristled at his exaggeration of her aunt's accent. The one person who could make fun of her Georgia twang was Maria, and Maria only. Her expression only darkened. One question hung in their, waiting to be plucked for tension's sake.

"Why?"

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to speak with you? Willingly speak to you."

She rubbed her chin and pretended to concentrate on her answer. "Bullshit. Unless you feel you needed to bitch slap me again, or had an urge to complete destroy any healthy self esteem boosts I've given myself for the past few months. But, otherwise, bullshit pretty much sums everything up." Maria paused, searching for her next words for he simply sighed impatiently. "How the hell did you know I was alive any way?"

He stared unwaveringly at her, and she felt tiny pokes in her head. She shook the little harpoons off, and tried to set up shields to protect her privacy. Mari supposed they worked, for he eased back and asked flippantly. "Just who did save you?"

He had just answered her question with another question. She hated it when people do that. But, seeing that this was no normal human being with whom she could argue without major loss of blood, she found herself answering. "I don't know. Probably one of the daybreakers. They…"

"Didn't want you," he finished for her again, this time with a smirk. Brushing away the sting his comment caused, she continued. 

"Yes, to put it tersely. And my aunt found me freezing on her doorstep, which shows the abundant love for me." He nodded, although his voice showed little interest in her explanation. When he added, "I'm sure," she had had enough.

It didn't make sense for her to become so angry so quickly. Vintage bug cars did not accelerate from zero to sixty in two seconds. Little boys did not instantly transform to horny teenagers. There was a process, a building up of emotions. At least there was supposed to be.

"Okay, god dammit," she yelled slamming open the door, ready to drag him out of her apartment by the lapels of his jacket. "I don't care how you got here, why you're here, or how you are getting out of here, but you are leaving right now!" He shrugged with, what seemed to be nonchalance, and moved towards the door. When he was a foot away, she changed her mind and slammed it shut.

"You know, what? You are not leaving until I say this: You do not have a single right to come in, criticize my taste of music, make fun of my non biological family, ask me about my immediate past, and don't believe a single goddamn word I've said. Valdis Eldson, you stay out of my new life or I will hire somebody to kick your ass. Now, good riddance!" This time she opened the door for him the last time. At least that's what she hoped.

His hand leapt up next to hers, presumably to slam it shut. But, in fear, she quickly pulled it back, afraid of being sucked into the dark whirl pool of his mind. When he saw this, all fiery anger melted into a calm determination for something . And she knew a calm anger was the most dangerous in killers. Valdis let the door shut quietly behind him. Just as Maria appeared powerful and imperious before, Valdis was now tall and frighteningly looming over her. Apparently he didn't know the rule of "building up" of emotions, either.

"Your new life? _Your new life_? And with what money would you hire this assassin? Your money from your job? Wait a second, you don't have one! Maria, you can't stand on your own two feet; you're still dependent on your aunt. You still don't have many friends, and…"

"I don't give a fuck about what you think about me. Yes, maybe I am a _little_ needy on her money but… this is different from before!"

"How? Do you send her thank you cards for every monthly check? Wow, Maria, that is just completely contrasting with your previous relationship. Why don't you just give up?"

"Shut up, just shut up Valdis. Whether you think it is or not, this _is_ my new life…"

"But you're not being yourself, you're holding back…"

"Oh, and you know me, is that it? Tell me, Valdis, just enlighten me for a minute, and tell me who the real Maria Tybal is. Because we all know you've spent years with me, studying my every move, my every feeling. Wait a second, you haven't! Are you trying to sweep in here to break my spirit and then tell me how to live my life, you've got a another thing comin'! You have no right…"

"_I AM YOUR SOUL MATE!"_

"_AND I WISH WITH MY ENTIRE BEING YOU WEREN'T!"_ She screamed back at the top of her lungs.

They took a breath, for the heated exchange exhausted both of them. Obviously tired, he sat back down in the chair in the dark corner, his hands running over his face.

"I have spent weeks looking for you, only to find out that my soul mate is dating a shape shifter. A _SHAPE SHIFTER_! For god's sake, Maria, couldn't you find yourself a decent human! Any vermin would have been better than that flea bag."

"Oh, there you go throwing around the v word again. Couldn't your people come up with something better, or at least some synonyms? All I hear is 'vermin' for my species and, believe me, that one gets old after a hundred years."

"Could you be serious?" He constrained his yells to a dull roar.

"You want to get serious, fine, I'll lay it on the line. You are the bad guy-"

"Does that make you the good guy? Ha!" he scoffed.

"No, ass hole, it makes me the Santa Clause," she threw back. "Bad guys and non bad guys do not visit each other for tea. We do not converse, we do not socialize in any manner, and we sure as hell don't summarize and judge each other lives! Isn't there some rule book in that sadistic society of yours that says, 'thou shall not rendez-vous with human soul mates'?"

He paced, threw up his hands, and paced again. To Maria, it appeared as if he was holding back all his desire to either punch a hole in the wall or throw her out the window. Which would have been a pity on both choices, since she had just painted the walls and washed the windows. Valdis stopped pacing and faced her with a look of utmost resolve.

"All my life I've felt so damn incomplete, I was so damn sure once I found my soul mate I would be so fucking happy I wouldn't kill a single soul. Then I meet you, I get a goddamn ver-, oh pardon me, human, for a soul mate and I spend a few more months feeling incomplete." His pacing quickened, and knocked down the chair beside him. Maria's eyebrows rose at the action, and she privately thought her soul mate was being a tad melodramatic. Too much Jerry Maguire for this vampire.

"Then on January first, I get a helluva wake up call saying 'Valdis, this is your one and only soul mate, whether you like it or not.' Plus, you gave me this speech about how happy you were going to be, all by yourself. What about me? I realized. It's not freakin' fair for you to be so happy when I feel like rotting in hell. So I'm here, trying to feel fucking complete, and you're not cooperating!"

__

Lord, he's selfish, Maria thought, privately amused. _Kinda reminds ya of someone, doesn't it?_ Her mind retorted acridly. She pondered if one could survive with three quarters of one's brain when she realized her soul mate had finished his monologue.

His chest was heaving and she stared at him coolly, with one eyebrow raised. "Is this the part when I say, 'Kiss me you fool,' or would you prefer, 'You had me at hello'? No wait, that wouldn't work because you didn't say 'hello.' That's not very polite…"

_Wrong thing to say idiot, idiot, and may I add idiot…_ Without a word, he picked up blue glass picture frame and hurled it to the wall next to her. "I was trying to be serious!"

_Don't be scared_, she told herself repeatedly after she mourned the loss of her frame. "Oh," she said with mock realization. "I couldn't tell with you acting like the trailer trash on COPS. Where's your rifle and beer can?"

"I'll whip them out when you wear clown make up and show your hot pink curlers," he answered tiredly. Before she could fake a heart attack for his first joke, he went on to say, "You do realize that this new boyfriend of yours has been lying to you."

"I've had my suspicions. But, then again, I haven't been Miss Honesty with him either. It's not one of my strongest points." He gave and quickly wiped away the tiniest of grins.

From out of the blue, cynical thoughts clouded her mind.

_He's doing it again, you know what I'm talking about. He's chatting you up, making you spill your thoughts. Then he'll hurt you or he'll use the information against you. Valdis is not to be trusted and you know it. Why are you still talking to him?_

Normally, she could have ignored the paranoid hiss, but her voice of reason was right. Valdis had hurt her before, for example the docks. And that short encounter had thrown her in turmoil for weeks. The last thing she needed was a re run.

Her voice of reason sensed victory, and threw images to ensure the self persuasion. 

"_The disgusting prostitute you call your mother has more worth than you could achieve in your life time."_

"No." She was hardly aware she spoke.

"_People care about me, Mari. Can you honestly say the same thing?"_

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to shut out the vindictive images.

"_I want obedience and compliance in the women around me, all women. Those who don't learn, are punished."_

Then, as the last memory, perhaps the most painful event came crashing to her. It felt like she was experiencing an out of body experience. She saw two young people, standing on a shadowy dock. Hateful words poured from their lips, but she could hear nothing. Then he raised his hand and slapped her. Just like that, as if she were nothing. The woman had not touched him physically before, yet he had struck her. It did not fit logic nor fairness and drove her to be unbelievably incensed.

He's the same as Dorian, she rationalized.

Maria opened her eyes and found herself facing his chest. Her breaths were shallow as her eyes slowly traveled to her soul mate's handsome face, for she didn't dare move her head and touch him, skin contact or no. Valdis peered down at her, concerned for some reason…her?

_Concern my ass_. "I know what's going on, Valdis. I know there are Night Worlders after me, the scapegoat for their downfall. Who would have guessed Sir Valdis Eldson would have become the pest control? This is why you're here, isn't it? To take care of the, oh what's that word that is over used and over played…vermin, right?" He stared blankly at her, and then began to laugh, no mirth in his chuckles. It was dry laughter of disbelief, of one tired of his misfortunes. Finally, after forcing Maria to assume his insanity, he spoke.

"Good one. _I_ came here to kill _you_? That's ridiculous, that's preposterous, that's utterly insane. Of all the people in the world, I never expected my soul mate to be the stupidest female on earth."

She disregarded the insult, because the tone of his voice startled and roused curiosity within her. "And pray tell, why would the thought be so outrageous?"

Valdis moved toward her, silently and expressionless. The look of him made Maria recall the graceful pace of a white tiger, blue eyes flashing in the dark. He came uncomfortably close, then unbearably close, then so close she believed she was damn near suffocated. Maria had backed up into a corner between her desk and the wall. He leaned forward.

"Because," he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair. "I saved you." She couldn't think, he didn't give her time to think, to rationalize, or to push him away. The three simple words turned her mind into a nebulous quivering mass of tangled babbling thoughts. Not enough to take major actions. Mari could see what was happening, but felt powerless to stop it. His hand rose by minuscule degrees to her cheek. Seconds ticked by with overwhelming slowness. Then when she could feel the heat of his hand on her cheek, and when she could smell the crisp scent of a cool forest emanating from his body…

"Get out." His hand gently brushed against her cheek, but she struggled against the current. "Get out, Valdis I mean it," she pleaded softly. It had never occurred to her that she would plead to anybody, let alone Valdis. Panicked hands rose to push him away, only to be captured in his grasp. 

"No, you don't, Maria," he refused tenderly, " I could tell when you mean it." 

Somewhere in the land of fog and fuzz her mind had dissipated into, a thought sparked. Confusion, indignation, and then feminist righteousness given to all women flushed away the cloudy thoughts of romance in her head. She snatched her hands away.

"Oh, I see how it is. I'm just a girl, a human girl to be exact, so I don't know what I'm saying? I need you to tell me when I mean it or not?" Maria pushed him away and rushed to throw open her bedroom door. "You may feel so damn incomplete that you can't stand it, Valdis, but I've spent almost twenty years without you and I'm doin' fine. And this may not be the independent 'I am woman, hear me roar' shit that you were just tellin' me about, but at least I'm trying. Now, listen very closely. Haul. Ass."

_Aw, poor baby_, she thought spitefully when hurt spread across his face. "I'd feel sorry for ya, but I think it's about time life kicked you in the ass. Out, Valdis, or do I have to call the cops?"

"I'd kill ten cops with one hand," he pointed out with immature pride, which seemed to dominate all other emotions in any being born with the Y chromosome. 

"And I'd like to see you explain the medical wonder of healing from a bullet wound in five seconds. Can we say lab rat?" 

_I'm not leaving_. It completely disconcerted her, to have a thought not of her own in her head. There was a natural coldness to his message, iciness laced with each syllable. Fortunately for her, that was when the knocking started.

"Maria! Santa Maria Tybal!" A man with a horrible Italian accent pounded at her front door. She turned to smirk at Valdis, but he was nowhere in sight. Nothing moved save the rustling of her curtains.

Kyros had his hand poised for another ruthless hammering on her defenseless antique of a door. "Santa Maria Tybal!" he exclaimed with the attempt of an accent, a goofy smile spread from cheek to cheek. He let out a whistle when he took in the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" All energy had drained from her, confirming her earlier excuse for their shortened good night kiss.

"Well, I was in the Lincoln Tunnel when, there in the sky I saw it: not a bird, not no freakin' plane…"

Maria frowned at the double negative.

"… but the Bat Signal. Some poor son of a bitch went home with an unsatisfactory good night kiss, could you imagine the hell's he's going through? So it was up to me, Batman, to save the poor bastard before…well before I die, honey." 

Kyros moved towards her, his arms outstretched and his expression like a sailor on leave. Again, Maria frowned, for he didn't even try to make her smile. After a night of Kyros, Valdis, and Kyros again, Maria felt as if she would faint or explode.

"Jesus please us, Kyros you're an Arctic Fox, not some stupid bat. And how the hell can you manage to see a bat signal if you're in a TUNNEL? Now get your ass in here, we gotta talk!" He jumped back, surprised and suddenly not in the make out mood. She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the apartment.

~*~*~*~

August 8, 2000

"Fill me in on the details, Ky…" She heard a huge intake of breath through the ear piece of the phone. "Wait, wait, let me rephrase that. Summarize, ten sentences or less."

"Okay, here's the deal. That one didn't count because it wasn't officially apart of the summary, you know what I'm saying, Hannah? Any way, Maria knew the whole time who I was, what happened, all that good stuff. About a week ago, a stranger paid a visit, which really means meant to kill her. Luckily, I stepped in and saved the day. Any who, she says he was sent by somebody or other and she's asking for a favor. Mainly, that we kill him. How many sentences was that? Six, or five. Either way that's pretty good for me right?" 

"She remembers everything!" Her exclamation nearly made his sensitive ears burst. Others enjoying their morning coffee turned towards her, and then wrote her off as a fermented tourist.

"Well, what you expect me to do, read her mind? Foxes are smart, but not that smart. Oh, and can you believe it? She broke up with me."

"Yes, except you're an exception." Kyros wasn't sure whether to give thanks or defense. 

"Hey, what are you doing on the mission any way? What about Quinn, Winnie, you know, the regulars?"

She bristled, but kept her voice level low. It would be horribly embarrassing to make a scene at the café, where everybody appeared detached and isolated from the world. _Probably to escape the noise of this city._ "Just because I am the boss's soul mate doesn't mean I can't do missions. True, it may not be my style, and yes, I have had no experience whatsoever. But I will not sit around the mansion when everybody else is on vacation. Besides, there are a lack of volunteers due to extended vacations everybody seems to be taking."

He was observed his surroundings, the roof of Maria's building where the confession had taken place. When she cleared her throat, he turned his attention back again. "Right, right, besides all you have to do is talk, which you do well by the way. And run."

"Run?"

"Yup, she should be jogging across the street from in two minutes. Sweaty, heaving chest, and ready to lie down and rest…" He sighed wistfully. "Wanna switch places? I'll be over there in a ten seconds."

"No thanks, Kyros. Like you said, I'm a great orator." 

"Ora-what? Does that have anything to do with bl-"

"Keep your mind out of the gutter, Snow."

"Hey, it was there since day one. See ya, Snow." It was an old joke. Hannah sighed, and idly stirred her cold espresso. There were dog walkers, shoppers, business women, and a small girl in shorts and a midriff top…

"Maria!" She yelped and got to her feet. The head of black pony tail did not turn around, and she kept the same pace as Hannah struggled to catch up in her leather boots. "Maria!"

It wasn't until she waited for the Walk sign to flash at an intersection did she finally slow down. Even then, Maria was preoccupied checking her shoe laces and stats on her watch. 

"Ma…ria," Hannah panted tiredly, leaning against the traffic light pole. Passerby's bumped into her shoulder, some rudely and others indifferently. "We…need…to talk," she huffed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. There's gum and god knows what on there." The reply appeared to be directed to nobody as Maria bent down to one knee to tighten her shoe. "Anything in particular, Snow?"

_Snow_, she thought, baffled at her old friend's cold greeting. From Kyros' wordy accounts, Hannah had learned Maria had revived the élan that she tucked away after the death of the Yolkens. The current behavior illustrated less than girlish warmth.

"Um, about this old friend? We need to know…" She trailed off when she realized she was talking to nobody; Maria had began jogging as soon as the sign permitted. It was time to torture her feet once more.

By the time she caught up, Hannah believed that visible sweat marks near the under arms and upper back were inevitable. She began to believe Nissa's claim, "Missions aren't just the glamour of beating the bad guys. That's half of it." 

"Maria, I said that we need to know…" Maria stared straight ahead and, unlike the novice Hannah, expertly wove through the stream of crowds. 

"His name is Valdis Eldson, and he's currently staying at the Four Seasons. Not sure what room, but hey I had to leave your people something to do to feel useful. If possible, I want it to be the slowest death in the history of time."

" 'Your people?' Maria, why are you suddenly separated from us?"

"I'm not," she snapped quickly, and gave friendly waves to local shop owners they passed. It amazed Hannah how little effort it took to shift gears so abruptly. "I'm not suddenly separated, Hannah. You can't be separated when you never really apart of something." Her tone did not ask for sympathy nor reassurance, it merely stated cold facts.

"We were your friends," she stated firmly and stepped in front of her to stop the tedious exercise. "How could you say that? Why would we even help you with this man if we weren't your friends."

"Friends? Did you just say friends?" Maria glanced around and noticed common pedestrians soon became slow walking onlookers. Most likely Hannah's calm, sweet, and innocent aura had attracted the males. "We'll take this inside. And tell Kyros to stop staring down my shirt." Hannah looked above, but only saw a vanishing shadow, and followed her into the building they had conveniently rested in front of. 

With astonishing speed for a girl who formerly found the climb up a short flight of stairs draining, Maria was waiting in the living room when Hannah reached the door way. Carefully, she pushed aside the door that seemed to hang by a thread and settled on the love seat next to her.

"About this friends business. The only people willing to talk to me were you, Poppy, and Maggie. And I have no inkling why you're helping me…are you expecting a fee?"

"Obviously you could afford it," she teased and lifted a set of leather pants and matching jackets, black and white, as an example. For some reason or other, she squirmed uncomfortably and changed the subject.

"This is all besides the point. Are you, well, I mean are one of your partners going to kill him?"

"We can't do that right away, Maria. He may hold information about where the rest of the Night World is immigrating to, and which big wigs are holding secret meetings for petty retaliation. And, as far as I know, this Eldson man was connected to many head honchos."

Maria snorted and fidgeted. "He isn't a man, at least in my definition. Valdis is a bigoted, self absorbed, finicky, and capricious bastard who isn't good enough to suffer in hell. He just needs to…to… I don't know, get sucked up in a black hole or something." Hannah stared at her old friend, her sharp mind piecing the vast jigsaw puzzle with the minor clues Maria inadvertently slipped out. But a few pieces were missing.

"How could you have such hateful feelings for an assassin who you met for an hour or so? And why aren't you dead if he had that much time to kill you? And, if you hate him so much, why haven't you killed him already?"

The bombardment of questions, like Valdis, drove into confusion, which usually resulted in anger. 

"What is this, twenty questions? Speaking of questions, why wouldn't I hate the man sent to kill me? I suppose you, oh kind Old Soul, would give him a drink and a good meal before he slit your throat like the wretched dog he is. Besides, Kyros must have told you what happened, and you know Kyros came before he could do anything."

"He went to the Lincoln Tunnel and back, that's at least an hour from here. Something must have happened, Maria, I could feel it."

"Valdis might have come just five minutes before Kyros interrupted. Ever think of that hot shot?"

"First of all, you said 'might have' which means he didn't. Second of all, you're on a first name basis with a man you met a week ago and lastly, I don't think he would give you his business card for future purposes. How did you know his name, and his personality, and his hotel? Assassins don't mince words with their targets. How do you explain that, hot shot?"

There was a pregnant pause in which both knew Hannah's decisive victory. Maria began to pace, hands on hips, and her eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. After ten minutes of wearing down the hard wood floor, Maria finally settled herself on a recliner in front of Hannah. Somehow, with hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and wrinkled clothes, she still managed to maintain the "Ice Queen" reputation from the mansion.

"Fine, so I knew him from Carn's castle. I do not understand how our acquaintance interferes with the fact he tried to kill me. Do you not get the math here? Tries to kill me equals you guys kill him."

For maybe the first time since they met, Maria saw Hannah give a sigh of exasperation. "I understand that equation. But I'm saying that he probably didn't come with the intent of killing you."

"Go ahead Sherlock, solve the puzzle. I'm just dying to hear your explanation."

"You," she said slowly, "and Valdis are…"

The angry gleam in Maria's eyes grew to an intense golden glow. "Don't you dare say it, Hannah Snow. Don't. You. Dare." For a moment, she thought she would comply. Hannah closed her mouth and toyed with the tassels of a pillow. Satisfied, Maria rose to see her out the door when she heard Hannah speak behind her.

"Soul mates."

~*~*~*~

August 10, 2000

California

The gloom filled the apartment like a thick fog. A documentary on the Life Time Channel had touched upon a sensitive subject. Children.

At first, all appeared normal and innocent. On the couch, Poppy watched the babies, cooed and doted on their lovable faces while James surfed the net on his laptop from a kitchen stool. Then she began to laugh over the misadventures involving toddlers and pre teenagers. And when the program interviewed celebrities raising young children, Poppy began to cry.

"Poppy, Poppy, it's okay if they end up divorcing, the stars get joint custody," he said frantically, and hoped that was the cause of his the sudden water works. "Is it about the kid's dog dying? Listen, I'm sure he's over it by now, this show's about five years old. Stop crying, just stop crying, here's a tissue."

Poppy began sobbing, and a few seconds later threw the tear soaked Kleenex back at him. "It's not about the stupid show! It's about us!" She yelled angrily and pushed him away. 

"Us? But Poppy, we don't have to worry about that junk. We don't have kids…er…wait a second. Are you pregnant?" The situation was highly unlikely considering she was made.

"NO! NO, NO, NO! I'm not pregnant, does that make you happy?" Unfortunately, he gave the wrong answer by shrugging. "I'm not upset that I'm not pregnant and I'm not upset that you're happy. I'm upset that I can never _be_ pregnant!"

James' mouth made an "oh" shape. He began to understand, his father once told him in a rare confiding moment that all women entered a maternal stage.

"A maternal stage! James, don't presume that this is a sentimental phase. If you do, I will kill you here and now." James bafflement changed to slight irritation.

Being a witch and a vampire did wonders for Poppy's psychic abilities. At first, he was proud his soul mate was reputed to be one of the strongest psychic vampires in the United States. Then, he began to fear it. With the combination of the soul mate link, her witch heritage, and the vampire powers, James' shields were virtually useless. When they discovered this, Poppy solemnly promised not to read any thoughts that were not meant for other minds.

"James, come here," she said, her voice still trembling, and sat on a stool. James cautiously sauntered to the one facing her, while she wiped her eyes. "God, how do I begin to explain this. See, you knew my parents, you know that they were great in raising me and Phil. Well, mom was great and dad was…fun. And she showed me in almost every aspect how to be a wonderful and sensible mother. I just…just…"

"Want to put that knowledge to use," he guessed.

"Yes, and when you…I…we found out about my cancer and the following events, I just sort of stopped thinking about it. But now, that I'm talking to my mom, and seeing what an amazing job she does with us, even when she found out we're witches and I'm a vampire… I just want to be like that. I want to have a little girl or boy look up at me with a million questions so that I can answer every single one."

In silence, both watched James wringing hands. He knew his lack of words disturbed her, but to say he was shocked would have been an understatement. Even humans at this age didn't have to think about family ways. James had never contemplated, and in complete truth, wanted a child. With a colorless tone of voice he only used pertaining to his parents, he said, "And you've known my parents. You know what a horrible job they've done."

"You turned out okay," she said helpfully. 

"But I have no idea how to raise a kid, Poppy. There is nothing that I've learned from them except 'Don't turn baby sitters into ghouls.' If we ever get a kid, you would be like a single mother. You know everything, Poppy, what to say when they fall or what to do when they get in trouble in school. All I've had to help me out of those situations was myself."

"You would have me, and Life Time documentaries." Then her hopeful face abruptly became crestfallen. "God, look at me; I'm trying to comfort you about being a father. You're never going to be a father and I'm never going to be a mother."

"What are you talking about? There are adoption agencies that Thierry knows the numbers to."

"Adopt?" Poppy said the word as if it was a part of new language. "But…but…"

Many of their friends in Circle Daybreak were adopted, Keller for example. It was not unheard of, since many made vampires felt the family twinge once in their long life times. But Poppy had never thought of adopting a child herself. This caused another argument.

"What's the matter with an adopted child?"

"There's nothing wrong them, it's just that they wouldn't be mine. They wouldn't be ours, our blood, our…DNA…"

"It's not the DNA that makes a kid your son or daughter, Poppy. I thought you would understand that."

"What is that supposed to mean? Just because I laugh and smile all the time, I'm supposed to say yes to whatever you ask for?"

"No, it means that because you had such an open mind to everything before. It's not the medical history that makes you family Poppy. And as cheesy as this may sound, it's the relationship, the love, or the bond that you build with the children. How can you get so technical as DNA?"

"It's not technical, James!"

"Then what is it? What's holding us back from adopting?"

She didn't have an answer for that. And he had nothing else to say. In their topic, they switched their positions concerning children. Neither wanted to leave; it felt as if a sudden departure represented an apology. Silence, tensions, and sadness settled over their home as both pondered over the problem in their minds.

~*~*~*~

August 20, 2000

Southwestern Pennsylvania

"Believe it or not, Ripley," Gillian said matter-of-factly.

"No way! Tu plaisantes!" Iliana returned, feeling as if she needed to show a bit of knowledge not that her distant cousin had dropped the huge bomb on her. Her mother once hired a French nanny, who believed in being bilingual was just as important as potty training. She hadn't lasted long.

"Yup. You may have had the blue fire in your blood, but I met one of our _dead_ cousin and solved a missing persons case. Who's the special Harman now?" 

"Puh lease. I am a Harman, you are a Lennox." It was some time between twilight and dawn. The two girls whispered in giggled in the dimness of Gillian's room. Iliana had taken occupation in the new guest room (Gillian's dad's old stock room of weights and junk), but had some temperory insomnia due to the travel. And since Mrs. Lennox taught night school and was unavailable for hot milk and cookies, Iliana decided to tickle her cousin's feet until she was up for conversation. Gillian especially enjoyed the sleepover, for her past slumber parties had consisted of one guest, Amy.

Amy, although sweet and loyal, usually spoke of boys, which ones she liked and which liked her. And since Gillian's favor of one particular boy never wavered, each of the five sleep-overs ended with feigning sleep to end her numbing prating. But, with Iliana, she could discuss a world and events Amy never knew about.

"What did he look like? Was he cute?" Iliana asked eagerly.

"Iliana! He's our cousin! We're not supposed to find him cute! That' would be…incestuous."

"Yeah right! You know what they say, 'Incest is the best.' Just kidding! You look like you're gonna have me committed. Besides, when you first saw him that flower field or whatever, you didn't know he was our cousin. What was your first impression of him?"

"Iliana, I just fell in a frozen creek and thought I died. The last thing I would think about was if I would meet a potential date at the in between world." Her small face remained stubborn, and Gillian sighed. "You want my first impression here it is: I thought he was a glowing insect." She felt a reprimanding slap on her arm, and thought it extremely unfair that her dainty cousin should be so strong.

"Seriously!" Iliana raised her voice and woke her two Abyssian cats sleeping at the foot of the bed. They broke their usual yin yang positions and nuzzled against Iliana. 

"Fine, fine, he had golden hair, tall, graceful, and glowed. Of course I thought he was cute! Whoever heard of a less than perfect angel?"

"Not an angel," Iliana corrected. "Our cousin, Gary Fargeon. Why do we, descendants of Hellewise, get the strangest names on the face of the earth? It's just not fair! While there were Ashley's, and Brittany's, and Kelly's, I got stuck with the name all the substitutes had trouble with!"

"I think Iliana is a lot better than 'Gilligan.' Do you know how many times I've been called that by teachers on the first day of school? And correcting them in front of class always terrified me. But, once you think about it, they're not strange, they're unique."

Iliana suddenly shushed her. "I think I hear something." They fell into silence again and there was indeed some rustling downstairs. Both girls froze. Iliana, who could no longer depend on the blue fire, scrambled desperately to remember any defensive spells Winnie taught her. Gillian had no trouble remember the spells, but she didn't want to choose one too damaging to any burglar. 

_What if he's in desperate need of money and needs to provide for his family?_ She thought pensively. Since both were so embroiled in their frantic thoughts, neither heard the footsteps right outside the door.

"Why are you two still up?" They shrieked and the cats ran out of the room and under her mother's legs in a flash. "If you're going to go to Hershey's World today, you're going to need some sleep. And, Iliana, if you're going to sleep here, you could ask Gillian to take out the cot."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lennox, but if I do that neither of us will sleep," she giggled, the late hours affecting her mind with sleepily cheerful moods.

"Ugh, mom! We're not going to Hershey's World, I've told you that millions of times. We're going to visit a friend of mine." Her mother shrugged indifferently and kissed them both good night.

"Just as long as you're out of the house so I could get some sleep," she told them warmly before leaving for her own room. Gillian left momentarily and returned lugging an unwieldy square of fluff and metal.

"Who's you're friend?" Iliana whispered while they both struggled to unfold the cot adjacent to the bed. Now she whispered because both knew Gillian's mother needed the sleep. After she revived her teaching skills, she took up night school since the junior college had already filled her position. And Gillian was willing to give her all the help she needed.

"A witch named Mesuline. She's helped me through some tough times before and I figured it was time to return the favor. Mesuline's been dying to meet you. In fact, I'm pretty sure all witches are." Iliana curtseyed with pride.

"I shall try to live up to all expectations. What are we doing?"

"We're gonna hit the water parks or Pittsburgh. Oh, and David's coming too."

"Great, me and Mesuline could watch you drool over each other. What fun," Iliana yawned flatly. The pillow hit her face before she knew what was coming.

That was the beginning of the one hour pillow fight, and the one hour clean up.

~*~*~*~

August 30, 2000

Las Vegas, Nevada

There was a cheery hum reverberating in the halls. Its source came from Hannah's room. Thierry had been bereft of her serene company for the past three weeks, first New York, and then her quick stay at her parents' house. Despite her strong will to finish the mission, Hannah cryptically told him all would solve itself in time. And Hannah was the soul of patience.

He had hinted, demanded, and begged for any type of explanation, but Hannah gave a secret smile or a knowing look and shook her head. The only clue she vouchsafed was, "The assassin who wasn't an assassin came to try to break the bone so it would heal the way he wanted it to heal. His way." It simply confused him more. Finally, time came around for her to plan the first annual Circle Daybreak reunion and little was thought of Maria's assassin. 

Many chances for celebration came at the equinoxes and solstices, but one also was forced to mingle with the Night World. Because their numbers were dwindling, it was unnecessary to hide their Circle Daybreak status, or to criticize and ridicule the humans, who, by the way, had no form of reunion or celebrations within Circle Daybreak at all. Hannah had sought to set the problem right as soon as an opportunity arose. Presently, all was convenient because of the absence of their malevolent nemesis and the upcoming Labor Day weekend. Most had already sent their RSVP, except two special guests in mind.

~*~*~*~

September 4, 2000

The couple stood huddled under the doorway as the slow raindrops began to fall quicker. Again, he pressed the doorbell in frustration. At his third time, the door opened immediately. 

"Welcome, Quinn, Rashel. You're two are the earliest guests to arrive." Nilsson led them to the massive hall, formerly the place of sober and usually heated meetings. Now, above the gigantic doorway hung a banner of greeting in golden letters. Scattered about the room were vases filled with flowers of foxglove, dahlias, roses, and irises. Although their black color gave the impression of a funeral parlor, lively chatter already filled the hall. 

"I thought you said we were the earliest to arrive?" Quinn turned to Nilsson inquisitively. 

"I said you were the first guests. These," he said, gesturing those throwing crepe streamers and foldable paper decorations at each other, "are friends who insisted to help out with the decorating. They're doing a lovely job."

Rashel laughed, and dragged her wall flower of a boyfriend towards one of the distracted helpful friends. Soon, more fellow Daybreakers came pouring in through the entrance. Winnie came, arm in arm with another male witch. Surprisingly, James came but Poppy arrived half an hour later, both completely unaffected by the significant other's absence. Morgead and Jez made their entrance known by their loud laughter and disagreements. A large circle formed around the talked of but never before seen Mary Lynnette, as Ash proudly displayed like an actor with his Oscar. Blaise also had her own circle, but those who surrounded her were either excited by her attention, or disappointed by the lack of it. Delos and Maggie were torn since the moment they entered, but found each other in the throngs of people after an hour or so. 

Iliana's presence was missed, but the lack of her enthusiasm was filled by Poppy's, who seemed to be all smiles, more than usual that is. In the invitations, it clearly stated that all condiments were available and there was no need to bring any at all. Thierry inserted this addendum to prevent the party from ending in a drunken reminiscing idiocy. Thierry took note of this but let it pass, for he knew that, despite the fact that they were the good guys, they always seemed to find a way to bypass the rules.

But, most claimed innocence to whatever "gifts" they brought and added their own treats to the snacks tables. The shower outside grew, but the noise inside grew with it. All the hapless efforts of the clumsy "decorators" were torn down as the sweet alcohol was served after the watery clouds became darker. When thunder clapped, there was a boom of laughter inside the mansion. And when lightning struck, it only helped to lighten the mood. Somebody dimmed the lights, and another raised the volume of the music. What supposed to be a casual get together became the noisiest, most crowded, and confusing party in Las Vegas.

Nilsson was the only one who heard the doorbell. There, standing wet and shivering, was a small girl hidden in a tent of a rain coat. After helping her out of the oversized raincoat, and then the made for fashion only leather jacket, Nilsson found little Maria, who still managed to get drenched under her layers of coats. Hair slowly curling by natural drying, Maria said in an unusual nervous manner:

"Um, Hannah invited me here. She said that she had to see me…"

"Maria! Nilsson, I'll take care of this, you go on back to Blaise," Hannah teased. Nilsson shook his head with a smile and returned to the party. "Poor thing you're shivering. I was thinking you weren't going to come…well, now that you're here, let's get you into the party." Hannah tried to gently push her to the party, but Maria stood like a statue.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped and then bit back her lip. "I came here because of your letter. That's the _only_ reason I came." Thunder rumbled suddenly, causing both girls to jump. 

"Wait here," Hannah said excitedly. Maria thought she smelled margarita on Nilsson, perhaps Hannah had a sip of alcohol as well. Her eyes followed Hannah as she slipped through two doors, and blasting music and darkness escaped the room for a moment.

~*~*~*~

There was one person, literally sulking in a corner, who did not know a single soul at the celebration. Well, any souls he wanted to reconcile with. _Pity the Night World lost the greats to such a holier-than-thou Circle_, he thought with disappointment as the infamous Quinn and Ash Redfern cross his vision. 

With arms crossed, shoulders slouched, he watched the joyous mass with disgust. _His_ people weren't celebrating, _his_ people weren't getting stupidly drunk just for the stupid sake of being together. No, his people were hiding like cowards. And here he was, in the middle of his enemy's headquarters, and he couldn't do a single damaging or vandalizing thing to it. And blood on the walls would have added such a nice touch to the opulent décor.

Hannah had written him, saying Maria might make an appearance at the merrymaking event, but it seemed she was mistaken. And, even if she did show, there was no doubt in his mind he would blunder and butcher the conversation into raising both their blood pressures.

Stretching his vision to an impressive range, he spied Hannah's worried face risen slightly over the others. Valdis could have read her mind, but he already knew who she was looking for and made his way to find a way out of the festivity. The farther away he got from the reveling victors, the better.

When he finally made his way out, it was like breathing fresh air, uncontaminated by the goody goodies. Now it was the simple matter of finding a way out without the butler's help.

"Dammit." Exactly what he was thinking. Valdis turned around in the poorly lit room, and saw a slender silhouette leaning against one of the Roman pillars. She was short, soaked to the bone, and had dark curling hair…

"Maria?"

"Valdis!" She jumped, and spilled a prescription container and its contents on the marble floor.

~*~*~*~

****

"If the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off." H.Z.


	7. Frozen Fire 7 (last)

L.J. Smith created the organizations and the characters with the exception of Kyros, Maria, and Valdis.

Author's note: I'm okay with beginnings, sickeningly creative with middles, but when the time comes to an end, my mind goes blank. So here I just tried to scrimp and type for whatever I could muster because I absolutely detested it when I read stories with no hope of an end. Sorry if you hate it, but rotten or not a story deserves an ending.

Frozen Fire 7

September 8, 2000

Las Vegas, Nevada

An alternative song came on in a deafening level, making it more difficult to reject his new potential one night stand. "One second, baby, I'll be back in one second," Kyros promised, insincerely, and untangled himself from the drunk blonde. To relent to her seductive slurs might lead to some disease, after all. It wouldn't be too hard to get lost in the hordes of dancers in the middle of the hall. After he attempted to break through without much success, for he was a novice at moshing, he decided a cigarette was just what his tired lungs needed. Now all he needed to do was find a safe place where no querulous preacher could give caveats of lung cancer. He saw the door and, like with many situations, made a simple math problem in his head. _Door + room- people = smoking area. _Then he saw an old friend in a new dilemma.

Maria appeared panic stricken and scrambled to retrieve the scattered pills. To him, there was an unusual avarice in her eyes for the small pills, now dusty and half melted from the rain that dripped off of her. He expedited the clumsy search with one swipe of the hand, gathering both the pills and the container.

"Dammit Valdis, give it back," she inveighed, and held out an unsteady hand. He threw her a suspicious look and raised his hand so it was out of reach. Maria held all inclement comments in her mouth to retrieve her pills. That is, until he spoke. 

"What's this, Maria?" Valdis held an expression of utter disbelief. "Is this what you're refusing me for, that doltish dog and drugs? I know I called you stupid before, all in anger and without sincerity, but now I mean it. If you are purposely harming yourself with these pills…" 

"Listen to yourself!" she exploded. "Why is it that every time we meet, you insist of thinking the worst of me? Buy me a brothel why don't you?"

"I am concerned with your well being! I am just saying to stop seeing that hound, and stop taking drugs! What on earth does that tell you? That I care for you, is that so complicated?" He gave himself approval for maintaining a low voice.

"Wrong. It tells me that men are five percent egotism and ninety five percent dumb ass. I have," she paused abruptly, and held her breath. Seconds ticked by. Valdis watched her with worried confusion as she slowly treaded to lean on a column. Her hand clutched to the side of her abdomen.

"Please," she muttered reluctantly, "give me my pills." Kyros' eyes widened at her tone of voice. It was cold, commanding, yet at the same time desperate.

Again, suspicion crossed his dark green eyes. But he yielded, at the sight of her sliding to a sitting position in her weakened condition, and tossed two pills at her. She swallowed them before he could blink. He brought the container to the light and read the drug prescription. Kyros strained silently to read it with him. Before he could get a good look, Valdis' face twisted in fury and he threw it at the wall. Maria shielded her face as the tiny shards flew back at them.

"Hey," Poppy whispered behind him. Kyros jumped and quickly covered her mouth. He made a motion for her to read his thoughts.

_It's Maria's assassin. He just found out she's on drugs…and he keeps calling me a dog! _Poppy giggled silently and peered from behind the door with him.

"Fuck it, Maria, just fuck it. To hell with you, to that idiot you're dating, to the whole damn Circle. I'm not going to stand for this; somebody's going to pay." It was as if the pills had given her the strength and courage of Hercules. Unafraid of the vampire's roars, Maria drew herself up to full height, or rather lack thereof, and roared back.

"Then to hell with you too! Nobody asked you to be here, Valdis, so nobody's holding you back. If you're so sick of this goddamn place, of this goddamn link, then just crawl into a hellhole and waste away. It would do everybody a favor!"

The raised voices drew another passerby.

"Hey, who's…" Quinn was shushed by the two redheads. In a secretive manner, they pointed two the yelling combatants in the hall. Quinn sprinted away and two minutes later dragged Rashel, Ash, and Mary Lynnette to the door way.

Valdis' massive hands were near Maria's head, either to caress her face or crush her skull. They trembled and with a drawn out growl he turned away. 

"Do you have any idea what I'm going through? I am your soul mate, you know this, and I know this. I've acknowledged this and I want happiness for the both of us but you…"he stared at her in a sad wonder, "you…don't want to be happy."

"Soul mates!" James exclaimed behind the six eavesdroppers. None of them bothered to quiet him, since Maria and the new character seemed too involved in their problem to notice anything else. Plus, they were shocked by her relationship as well.

"Am I supposed to jump to your command any time you felt like it? All of a sudden you want a relationship, a baby machine to knit socks in your castle, and you are just so surprised by my refusal. Now, why is that?" Although none of the seven recognized the situation nor the man, they did recognize her acrimonious sarcasm. Thierry wandered by to see what drew such a strange, non dancing crowd. 

"You would not be a baby machine, as you so crudely put it. Why would you think I would tell to start being yourself just to confine you in a manor?"

At Poppy's selective mental calls, all who knew Maria hurried to the door way. "Anybody sense a little déjà vu, here?" Morgead asked after surveying their crowded positions in the door way and the arguing couple in front of them. He was promptly shut up.

"I came to you before, Valdis, in an attempt to try…patch things up."

"You kicked me in the balls! I fail to see how that patches things up." The girls smiled, for all could see Maria executing the attack.

"We're getting off track," he realized in irritation and stepped on the remnants of her pills with an echoing crack. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Do you realize how much pain I feel when I see you with another man? When we both know that you'll only be happy with me?" There was clear anguish on his face, although he tried to cover it. Hannah's face amidst the crowd melted into compassion for the man. She hoped her arranged meeting of the two would spark some sort of relationship. 

So understandably, she felt a sharp pang of irritation when her petite friend retorted, "My aren't we sure of ourselves?"

"Do you have any idea what I go through every second of every minute of every day? Thinking about you and him…it burns inside me, Maria, it _hurts_."

Maria grabbed his left hand and held it up for all to see. Several over dramatic gasps ran through the group at the door way. A gold ring glinted on his fourth finger. "Yes," she spat, "I'll force myself to understand the concept."

Valdis stared at the ring as if it appeared on his hand by mistake. His mouth moved, but no sufficient words formed. "I…I… Maria you don't understand, this ring it's…"

"Yes, I know it's a wedding ring, Valdis, I know about the stupid wedding and the stupid bimbo wife. I was _there_, remember? Don't chastise me about dating Kyros when you're married to a nymphomaniac." It took several minutes for her words to sink in, and, again, several dramatic gasps were given. Keller rolled her eyes.

"You know, you're right, Morgead, this does feel vaguely familiar," Keller agreed thoughtfully and Morgead thanked her with exaggerated gratitude.

"Pearl's dead," Valdis explained flatly and Maria interrupted with a gasp of her own.

"You killed her?"

"No," he yelled with venomous incredulity. "I wouldn't kill my own wife!"

"No, just beat her into a coma, right? And, don't you dare say 'no,' Valdis. If you hit me, I fully believe you'd beat your wife."

"He hit you?" Poppy repeated in disbelief. Instead of becoming angry at their presence, Maria simply nodded. Again, Valdis opened his mouth to protest.

"Does the phrase 'obedience in all women' bring any memories to mind, Valdis? That should be enough reason for us to be apart," she railed with a jabbing finger to his chest. "Every time your question our separation, you just remember your slap, your request for dog like obedience, and your claim of my unworthiness to the world." By this time, Maria was fighting tears from rolling down her cheeks and continually swallowed the lump in her throat. There was an eerie silence in the hall. 

"I know I was wrong," Valdis said each word distinctly through clenched teeth. "I know they were stupid things to say, but I won't say I didn't mean it. Because at that time, at that place, and being the person who I was, I believed in every single word that I said that night, Maria."

"And now? Now, who are you and what do you believe in?"

"Stop being so cynical! You're so stubborn, you're refusing everything I tell you. You refuse to believe I changed, you're rejecting my feeble attempts to compensate for all the hell I've put you through, and you are trying your damnedest to keep your hopes down. And if you're so worried about my late wife, I'll tell you what happened. We were married and two months later she was killed by a lover's jealous lover. And you know what I did for those two months, Maria? I thought about you. Every single fucking day, some unknown part inside me tried to burn your memory in my mind so I wouldn't lose you altogether. And I _never_ slept with her, Maria, although you seem so eager to jump into Kyros' bed."

"I never jumped into his bed!" Again, Valdis seemed to restrain himself from a fiery combustion.

"Then what the hell are you doing with birth control pills, Maria?!" His tone was dangerous, and warned Maria to proceed with caution. Maria ignored it.

"It's called cramps," she blurted bluntly and crossed her arms in an embarrassed position. The males of the audience became uncomfortable as all males worldwide did, with the exceptions of the medical field.

"I have cramps due to my menstrual cycle. Cramps so painful I actually have to bend over just to stop from fainting. And it just so happens that my doctor prescribed this drug to alleviate the pain." Valdis shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking at the floor.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked, avoiding her gaze.

Now she was fed up. Well…as fed up as an already full person could get. "Valdis, do you want to make an appointment with my doctor? Oh, and I have to correct myself for an earlier comment. Men are one percent egotism and ninety nine percent dumb ass." He gazed at her dubiously and she snapped, "Goddammit, Valdis, I'm a virgin!"

At this exclamation, Kyros felt his face grow flaming hot. Suddenly faced with the discovery, Daybreakers surrounding him gave him questioning glances, most likely doubting his stories of their "torrid and heated love affair." He pretended to be very interested in the tile design he stood on. Until the conversation started up again.

"What do you want from me? Maria, just tell me what I have to do to make you start believing in me? Join the army, volunteer to help in third world countries, save babies from burning buildings, just tell me what I have to do so I can erase every scar I inflicted upon you."

Again, she remained to calm herself, slow her breathing, and check the brimming tears. She only managed to calm down and inhale and exhale at a normal pace. He was simply begging for a chance to redeem herself, but she had no answer.

"It's not about what you could do, Valdis, for I myself am no shining saint to judge you. It's about what you can't undo. Do you see this?" She pushed up her left sleeve, and revealed something none of the spectators could view from their distance, even the vampires. 

Valdis saw three scars, each roughly cut as lopsided Z's, that overlapped each other. 

"This," she said, pointing to the first z, "came from the flash backs of the people I killed. Every single night, I would see strangers' faces, staring in terror at me. Do you know how long it took me to stop those faces, after this cut? The therapy, and the self isolation? Five months, for five long terrible months I saw my victims' expressions in my sleep. This one," she laid a finger on the second scar, "I began to hear the voices of the Battle. In my head, so I couldn't escape them, so I could be tormented with no end in sight!" she explained with a distant, reminiscent smile. "And these weren't expected at any particular, oh no, Valdis, these came abruptly and out of the blue. The cries of help…do you hear them very often? It doesn't bother you every once in a while, a girl getting mugged or so, but when they're all jumbled together and screaming at me to help… It almost killed me. I thought I'd beat them to it, but the paramedics had another idea in mind." She laughed a bittersweet laugh. "Bastards," she said almost fondly.

Many in the crowd already guessed what she pointed to and explained about. It changed their thoughts of her will. This girl was supposed to be the stubborn, feisty survivor that Hannah and others reputed her to be. To envision her, crying in some dark corner with a blade poised to slowly take her own life, was almost impossible. Almost. Presently, Maria gave them a glimpse of a vulnerable side she never allowed them to understand.

"I didn't make you kill those people, Maria… You know as well as I do that a vampire can take blood without killing!" It was a tenuous defense, but it was his last life saver before suicidal grief.

"I didn't kill them for blood! Don't you see?" She stared into his eyes as if it should have been blatantly obvious. "I did it because I was angry, because of what you said. Lord knows I tried to stop being their equal. Because I'm your equal, right Valdis, or was I? I was still pathetic as a vampire, right?"

"I told you that I was stupid, I was blind that night, I've been blind for all of my life! You shouldn't have taken anything I said to heart…"

"It wasn't that! When you changed me, when you decided to play god with my life, you decided to make me different, 'better'. _You_, the one person in the whole universe who's supposed to accept me for who I am, despite my endless flaws. _You_ weren't happy with who I was. You know what? Before you, I didn't care what anybody thought about me. I didn't give a damn that Morgead called me Mrs. Satan, I didn't care that Keller thought I was a self indulgent brat, and I didn't give a flying fuck if the whole Circle Daybreak wished me to hell." 

She gave a little laugh. It was strange how a laugh could sound so sad. "But for some reason, for our link, I assumed that your opinion mattered." By her tone, the others knew she hadn't assumed. She believed in it. This was the girl who would sometimes willingly misbehave to instigate arguments with the others. And the one man who she wanted approval from had harshly criticized her.

He couldn't stand to look at her anymore. The pain wrought upon him by her relationship with the fox was nothing compared to what he felt now. He hated himself more than Maria hated him, he hated his skin, his hair, his face, and his mind. Valdis hated suddenly hated anything or any one that dared hurt his Maria.

"And did you know what I was thinking on December thirtieth? I thought the world isn't worth saving because people like you and me are in it. And what made it worse…" It was becoming hard to talk and swallow the lumps in her throat so she let them stay. Crystal tears threatened to escape her eyes, but her concern with her memories was so strong she no longer cared what she looked like.

"What made it worse was I thought I wasn't good enough. For what? For everything: for saving the world, being a wild power, being your soul mate, hell, being a human! And, for another pathetic note, I couldn't even cut it being a vampire. Because of what you told me on the docks and for what you did to me in the fall of 1999. And for the last lesson of the day class," she announced with false brightness. Her mouth so twisted, her eyes so glassy…Maria looked more like a bitter China doll than the beautiful human they all knew.

"This scar, the latest addition, was caused by your voice. After two visits in the emergency room and countless therapists, you would think little Maria would learn that suicide doesn't solve anything. But, my god, have you ever heard your soul mate degrade every single aspect of your life? Have any of you?" She swung to face the Daybreakers, her voice full of desperation and false carelessness. 

"I mean it's bad enough to hear the first time, but to hear the insults continuously day and night, night and day…one week. That's all it took, Valdis," she addressed by stared past him, seeing her violent past somewhere in the darkness. "One week of hearing your voice was enough to make me kill myself for one last time. Permanently dead, just like I was supposed to be months before. Third time's the charm, that's what they say right? Bull shit. Stupid doctors with their stupid stitches and their stupid fake warnings. Aunty dearest almost had me com…put me in a…" 

Maria gave a brittle laugh, as brittle as her voice, and tried again. "My aunt nearly made me go to…" Her voice failed her, just as her composure failed her. Like lost little girl seeking help, Maria stared at her surroundings. 

There were people, but no faces. There were columns, but no ceiling or floors. Maria was scared. Everything appeared like a twisted cubist painting, except expressed no message nor mood except confusion. 

Maria fainted into a heap of soaked skin and bones with curly black hair.

Valdis was the first to reach her.

~*~*~*~

September 10, 2000

Hushed whispers were very clear but their sources were indistinct. She couldn't catch a phrase, a word, or a single syllable. They were similar to the low hum of honey bees. After a few seconds, or hours, she could hear single words but then silence leaped in between. Fleetingly, she assumed God was pressing the mute button of the world on and off again for amusement.

"…leaps Ron…lying…"

_No, that doesn't make sense. Stop playing around, Lord, people have to understand each other_, she scolded.

"…scant…fur…crop…"

_Am I on leaping Ron's farm of scant fur crops? _

"…sin…moving…"

_Is this Ron a sinful man?_

Then, in a harsh mental crash, all the sentences were written before her in simple sense. 

"Keeps on crying. Can't make her stop. Has been moving," she whispered faintly. 

Her cheek was wet and sticky, but luckily somebody took whatever it was away. Maria opened her eyes to find Poppy staring down at her, with a wet handkerchief in her hand. She simply stared back. Green eyes looked at light brown eyes for quite some time until Poppy laughed.

"One of us has to say something. Too bad, though, because I lose the contest. Wait, I can guess your next question without reading your mind. Hmm…you want to know what happened. It was a nervous breakdown, honey, and let me tell ya, those things ain't so healthy. And land sake's alive, you're heart was beating fast, like a billion times a minute, and your pulse was racing. Thea said you must have had a weak heart or something in child hood. Was it rheumatic fever or something?

Her words brought memories of the palpitations she suffered during recess, or piano recitals. Back then, the chest pain, short breath, and hyperactive rhythm terrified her, but after treatment they were simply bad memories to shake away. Maria shook her head and sat up, ignoring the nausea it caused. 

"No, whatever it was went away," she mumbled and then focused, "Listen, I need to go to school." Poppy stared at her with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 

"Weeelll…that was the last thing I expected to be popping out of your mouth. But, isn't schoolroom just a place where adults take pleasure watching their students stumble over themselves?" Maria stared at her blankly. "Duh! It's a quote from the Camilla Erikson comics!"

"Whatever," she dismissed the subject tersely. "I need to go to New York, fast. I'm going to college now, Poppy, I can't miss a day."

"Maria, chill! Besides, you could fail the entire school and I'm sure you're aunt could pay for your intuition at another, better school." She shook her head at Poppy's odd choice of comforting words.

"No," she interrupted sharply. "I won't let her. That's another thing. I'm starting a job on Wednesday and I need to get the uniform in the morning. Plus, I need to start looking for a roommate and hawk all of my electronics."

"Maria…today is Wednesday. You've been out and resting for two days now." Poppy reached over to shut Maria's dropped jaw. 

"Are you telling me I missed two days of college? With the exceptions of unfair suspensions, I have never missed a school day in my entire life and you let me miss two days of college?!" Poppy sighed impatiently and rose from the bed.

"Listen, missy, I'm so sorry to have ruined your chances at the ultimate perfect attendance pin, but around here, health comes first."

"Since when did my health matter to you?" she retorted and then quickly put her hand to her lips. "Oh…that just slipped out, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, you're starting to sound like your old self," Poppy replied airily, unaware that was exactly Maria had tried to avoid before. "Listen, you have got to eat. Thea says you should start off slow with soft and little food, because you haven't eaten in a day. But for a buck, I'll sneak in a snickers," she offered. 

"I'll give you five bucks for a baked potato, a chicken sandwich, and a frosty from Wendy's. And I'll throw in one of my leather jackets that you liked so much for Entenmann's chocolate cake and a tub of coffee icecream." At that very moment, Maria was willing to give her life savings for anything containing saturated fat.

"Deal!" Before Maria could remind her about the sweet and sour sauce, Poppy was out in a blur. Maria envied her unnatural speed, knowing no matter how much she jogged each day, she would never achieve the cheetah like swiftness all vampires had. "But if it means being a vampire to be that fast, I'd rather be as slow as a snail," she announced to the furniture about her. 

Thankfully, they hadn't placed her in her previous chambers, most likely assuming that she would be forced to confront unpleasant memories. And, like her first visit, she was wearing wrinkled clothes. Ten minutes later, Thierry entered without knocking and held Poppy by the elbow. Poppy was pouting, and stubbornly held on to three bags of food. The pair startlingly resembled the stereotypical juvenile delinquent and her parole officer.

"She tells me you're the master mind behind this scheme," Thierry said rebukingly. "Even after she told you about Thea's directions." Poppy whistled incessantly when Maria glared at her.

"I plead the fifth. Can I have my food now, I'll just get my money…hey!" Thierry confiscated the evidence and summoned Nilsson.

"Give this to anybody who hasn't had lunch," Thierry looked at the three bags, all stuffed with junk food. "And breakfast," he added.

When he shut the door, Thierry confronted two petite, beautiful, and absolutely outraged women. One of whom had terrible cramps and was not in the mood for silly displays of dominance. But instead of erupting immediately, Maria took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"Thierry, I am willing to answer any questions you might have, calmly and cooperating. Just as long as I get my food."

Thierry took the road of caution. "Um…Maria, doesn't a bowl of chicken soup sound nice…" Maria stamped her foot.

"What do you think about the sound of my foot kicking your ass if you don't get me my god damn meal!? And where the hell are my pills?!"

Thierry shook his head to conceal his amusement and relief of her recovery. He should have known better than to refuse a starving woman at that time of the month, who had just dealt with a scorned soul mate.

_Thousands of years around them, and you still don't know how to handle us_, Poppy told him, still whistling an innocent tune. Nilsson was summoned again, and the meals remained available in the kitchen. A short field trip ensued. Maria knew she should take the advice, but didn't care if the splurge resulted in a major stomach ache.

"Now, why did you pretend blankness when Kyros visited you?" Maria raised her hand in protest.

"No, I answered all questions truthfully. Delos was an island, was Galen was a Greek physician."

"But you pretended to know nothing about the Night World or Circle Daybreak. Why?"

Maria slapped his hand away from her fries before answering. "Thierry, no offense or nothing, but neither organizations were much fun. So, I decided to forget everything bad, including that chapter of my life, and move on with a new normal boyfriend. Devastatingly handsome boyfriend, I know, but I figured that there had to be some amazingly cute human boys out there, right?" Thierry shrugged.

"I don't really ferret out the cute human boys when I go outside," he explained easily. 

"What's with the pills?" Poppy asked out of curiosity.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard already…hey where are my pills? Damn, they spilled and now I need to get more… Listen I really need to get back to New York, sorry for lying, can I go now?"

After a meticulous interview concerning her whereabouts, people she met, and what she knew of anything pre and post Final Battle, Thierry couldn't see a reason why not. The only time she hesitated in answering was when he questioned the absence of her power. She gave a vague, "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure." But Poppy did see a reason, and voiced her opinion loudly.

"You can't leave! Valdis is still somewhere around the city, you need closure. Although I'm not sure how much progress he'd make, but at least you need to tell him to leave you alone for good. People need closure!" For some reason or other, Poppy seemed really hung up on the "closure issue." Maria dismissed her reasons as sentimental drivel.

"I don't care about closure. That bastard basically called me a tramp and then tried to defend himself for it. Besides I've got it all planned out: I move back, pretend like nothing's happened, he'll give up his dream of soul mate housewife baby popper…or I'll _make_ him give up," her tone suggested some evil plotting was due. "And then I'll eventually move to the suburbs where I take in stray cats." With her future infallibly planned and told, Maria made her way back to her room to schedule the next few hours.

"I'm sure he needs your help right now, and besides, I don't think he's all that evil."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well…he didn't even retaliate when Rashel dragged him out of the mansion the other night." Maria paused just in front of her door. 

"And why," she said, slowly facing her, "would she want to?"

Poppy began to rub her chin, appearing deep in thought. "It was either the fact that he slapped you, or the 'obedience in all women' comment. You know, I think that one got all the girls riled up." Maria rolled her eyes and escaped to her room to make preparations for departure. While she waited for her call to be answered, Maria wondered why Poppy was present, yet James was nowhere in sight. She made a mental note of asking in casualty in their next encounter.

Since Hannah's hope of their relationship failed, Thierry could not protest to Maria's abandonment of everyone and everything in her past. A pity too, many Daybreakers were just starting to understand her. But not enough to convince her to stay. By the next day, she had all ready planned her trip back, with her own money.

"Is that your earliest flight? Are you sure?" Maria listened impatiently to the rude airline worker. "Jesus please us, all you have to do is tell me the flight times without sarcasm, is that so hard? Did you just say yes? Anybody with an IQ higher than a rock can be serious for a minute…hello? Hello?" Maria stared aghast at the phone. She would have told somebody about her minor misfortunes, but there was nobody else in the hall way. Small wonder, considering they all had work after Labor Day. A few, too rich or too partied up to go back to the nine to five, stayed for an extended vacation at Circle Daybreak.

After gathering an armful of information papers, Maria wandered through the hall ways, absorbing every detail. She assumed it would be the last time she ever visited it, no matter who invited her. _Invitations are highly unlikely, Einstein._ Distracted by wandering eyes, Maria didn't see Poppy until they collided. Papers flew every where.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously. "Jinx!" Again, they spoke at the same time. Instead of rising, the two small girls laughed and gathered the mess of scattered papers. Some had strange scribble on it, awful pictures, and numbers and time of plane flights. 

"Whoa, did your lose your sense of staying in the lines?" Poppy teased, and held up a picture of a pink and purple mess hiding Winnie the Pooh. Maria smiled and took the sheet away to look at it

"I uh…sometimes I baby sit, you know for extra money until the next paycheck came. Coloring was the only thing to calm the little monsters down." For some reason, Maria told her explanation proudly, as if she had just won a war. Poppy shrugged and continued to clean up the sea of papers.

"And then one thing led to another…I got a job at a neighborhood daycare. Not much, and they're starting to enforce the uniform rule, but the kids are great. That is when they're potty trained." Maria did not notice Poppy's nervousness at the word "kids." 

"So…" Poppy began casually after some silence, " you work with kids in the inner city? You know…troubled?" Maria was shifting the papers into one neat stack.

"Not all the kids who live in the urban area are troubled. TV just shows them like that for drama. But yes, we do have some rebels. You know it's funny," Maria said, suddenly recalling something, "there's this one boy named Carl, quite possibly the meanest, rudest, and loudest little boy on the block. Just last Saturday, he called accidentally called me 'mom.' Oh dear lord, you should have heard all the kids making fun of him."

Poppy frowned. "I don't see how that's funny." 

"Of course, it would be tragic if he was embarrassed and threw some kids to the wall, but he wasn't. He just shrugged and said that they could have all done the same." Maria got up, and brushed the floor dust from her pants. Poppy accepted her hand and rose herself.

"And as cheesy, cliché, and movie like as this sounds…those kids are kinda like my kids. I'm sure if I saw them for more than four hours a day, I'd think they were Hell's Angels, but right now they're all right."

"Maria," she said in a slightly chastising tone," you can't tell me they're all Asian, Italian, and white. How can they be you're kids, even if they were of you're ethnic race? I don't think my cousins are my children, just because they're related. And you've only known them for a few months or whatnot." Maria stopped in her tracks, so Poppy did also.

"Poppy…" she said in puzzlement and made an attempt to elucidate. "After a while of learning their personalities, likes and dislikes, and find out that you're one of their favorite people in the whole world, you just…how do I explain it? You just stop seeing their color, you know what I'm saying? When I walk in the room, I don't see 'J.C. the Puerto Rican,' I see J.C. the boy who wants to play in the NBA and who's in love with Brittney Spears." Poppy still appeared doubtful, but also thoughtful as Maria struggled to clarify her meaning. "It's not the skin pigmentation, or the flesh and blood that makes them 'my kids.' It's just….just…the relationship. They trust me more than they trust their parents, they talk to me more than they talk to their siblings. That's why he called me 'mom,' you see, because he needs that figure in his life."

"But what happens when you quit your job, or have to move or something? What happens to J.C. and that boy when you're gone to classes? Or when they're too old to go to daycare anymore?" Poppy shot accusingly. Maria calmly continued to amble lazily down the hallway, still absorbing the minute details. Just when Poppy thought she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to answer, she spoke.

"We talk to their parents, Poppy. Or their brother, their sister, their uncle, hell, the garbage man they see every Thursday. Just so someone could be the substitute. Because…I'm guess all my coworkers have had tough lives. And we all want to make sure those children don't have to worry about their next meal, and who to turn to in trouble. Because…dammit I used to be so articulate. Um…" Maria's eyes lit up as she found the right phrase. "Just because they're not related to me, doesn't mean they don't deserve my love, care, or attention."

And with a smile, Maria turned and disappeared in her room, politely closing the door. Unknowingly, she left Poppy to brew and stew in her own thoughts.

On her dresser, Maria found a list of names and numbers. At the top, it read "People willing to room with Maria." She shook her head, crumpled the list, and threw it in the trash bin. Poppy and her big mouth. 

It wasn't completely ridiculous to room and live with a person who'd understand her past, and the strange visitors of the present, but then again it would be even stranger to talk to somebody about it. Maria didn't exactly know how to calmly discuss the problems of her life with anybody. She didn't usually need anybody's verbal counsel, a fact proven by the long line of rejected therapists. _No, you idiot_, she told herself caustically, _you just like to scream your past to Valdis._

_Dammit._ She mentioned _him_ again. Maria was certain as soon as she left Las Vegas, rearranged or burned anything he touched, the stupid man would be out of sight and out of mind forever. _Perhaps optimism was confused with stupidity. And damn again, he touched my Simon and Garfunkel CD._

Then she was in a flurry of tasks. There was hardly enough time organize her flights, ensure her place at the daycare, ensure her place at the apartment complex, or to make last minute refusals to her aunt's succor. If she was going to be independent, she would do her best or die trying. It was hard enough finding a roommate for the little cramped box she called home. And most people who called before Labor Day sounded like psychos or Don Juan's. Plus the depressed, delusional, and snappy men who tried to take after Valentino's gift of hypnosis and Vincent Price's gift of creepiness. The last thing she needed were men who _thought_ they were vampires, unaware they were simply pale, cheap imitations to the real things. On a second thought, she fished for the crumpled list in the trash bin and placed it safely in her purse.

Dusk had settled around the mansion, and a few weak light posts lit up near the entrance of the gate. Unlike the busy, bee like atmosphere before, few people entered the drive away, save those who came to pick up the hang overs and their forgotten belongings. Maria checked her watch, 7: 00. Approximately two hours till her taxi arrived, and three hours until she her ears popped from the take off. All was taken care of…now was the time to wander in the dark and unexplored hallways. Or the greenhouse, which provided some herbs for culinary or witch purposes. And, she recalled, no matter how many times Nilsson had uprooted them, Ash or Kyros would plant a something little extra, and illegal, as a constant prank.

A moving shadow just beyond the gate caught her eye just as she passed one of the French windows. Agitated for no other reason than instinct, Maria quickly moved to Nilsson's quarters, where the intercom and camera for the main gate. With Thierry's second man gone, she was free to investigate the situation herself.

After a series of beeps and static, Maria finally mastered the many buttons of the two way intercom and moved on to put her suspicions to rest. "Hello?" No answer. "Hello," she asked again, and the chirps of crickets answered her.

"Nice try buddy, but Nilsson gets rid of the crickets every year. They eat the fruit trees. Who are you?"

"If I tell you the answer, you won't talk to me." Maria did not answer, frozen by the voice that carried his paralyzing power through the intercom. "Hello?"

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Talking to you," Valdis answered, not at all troubled by her menacing tone. "Wait, before you go, can I ask you one thing?"

"You just did. Bye now." 

"Maria!" Valdis sounded just like Ricky Ricardo upbraiding Lucy's behavior, minus the Cuban accent. _Very persuasive_, she thought dryly.

"You have a minute," she said, surprising both of them. Maria wished reason had absolute control over the mouth, and not curiosity.

"Okay…to tell you the truth I hadn't expected to get this far in the conversation…"

"Forty seconds."

"I know you don't want anything to do with me and I know you say there's nothing that I could do for us to…but at least give me something. Just say one thing that I'll do, with or without your approval, so that I could tell anybody who asked that I tried with everything I got. Tell me anything, Maria, please."

With every pitiful word, something sunk lower in her stomach and her heart began to ache more and more. This is what she had reduced Valdis too, begging for repentance at the mansion's gate. She began to feel like…

"Pope Gregory VII at Conassa when he made Emperor Henry IV beg at the castle gates for forgiveness," Valdis finished for her. "But please don't make me wait for three days."

_That_ was it, that was the thing that scared her the most about him. He understood her, he knew what she was thinking even without mind powers. Nobody else did. And the fact that he entered her mind without permission, again. His invasion didn't bother her this time, in fact, she barely felt any thing. Except a cool, fresh feeling one gets when he visits a snowy wood. He knew her past, present, and would most likely follow her in the future. Maria couldn't let that happen, it would simply be the horrible act of leading on some poor boy without any hope of fulfilling his wishes. 

"One thing?" she asked uncertainly.

"Anything…" Valdis confirmed with such an intensity, it broke Maria's heart to say her next words.

"You can leave me alone." Unable to hear his voice to accompany his heartbroken face she had just envisioned, Maria left the intercom. She refused to hear his last words, with no doubt in mind that they would haunt her until the day she died if she stayed.

"But that." His voice resounded in an empty room. 

~*~*~*~

September 20, 2000

New York City, New York

Frustrated, Maria erased the math problem for the fifth time. The first time she had written the problem wrong, the second time, she had mistaken a negative integer as a positive, and the third time she hadn't checked with her calculator if all her multiplication were right. _Which you think you would have mastered by 10th grade_, she thought. 

Come to think of it, she could barely hear herself think. Her long sought roomy had just arrived, with unwanted company. Maria didn't bother to order them to hush. These rendez vous never lasted long, and the men were kicked out or passed out in less than an hour.

After giving up on math, Maria moved onto Greek mythology. While most of her classmates thought of it as little more than an ancient soap opera, the old polytheistic religion intrigued Maria for different reasons. She liked to observe the gods and goddesses as if they were lab specimens. It seemed silly to have these power wielding heroes and heroines, full of awesome power beyond any mortal, who act with jealousy, love, and stupidity as any other human being. Why fate, and not the Three Sisters of Fate, decided to grant the deities with common, and usually destructive emotions baffled her. 

Maria remained lost in the world of loves, monsters, and revenge plots until she heard the abrupt slam of the door. She peeped her head out her bedroom door. The apartment was void of needle dicks, Maria's favorite term of her roommate's men.

"Hi Maria!" The blonde girl in the kitchen greeted her brightly. 

_And there's the pin cushion_, she thought and returned the greeting. _Hi ho bag._ "Good morning. What are you doing?" Her hands were swiftly arranging the kitchen counters objects, and taking out boxes of food items.

"Making breakfast, duh!"

"Couldn't you just zap something up?"

"Goddess, just because I'm a teenage witch doesn't mean I have energetic magic on the spot like that."

"And ironically enough, you're name is Sabrina," Maria yawned and made her way for cereal and the milk.

"You know, I still don't get that joke!" Maria brushed past her to the bowl cabinet. Nothing. Determined to have her Reeses Puffs with her honey bun for breakfast, Maria grabbed a huge punch bowl and an icecream scoop and settled herself at the kitchen table. Sabrina tsk, tsk-ed loudly and shook her head.

Being a girl of curves and contours, who constantly remained on diet instead of accepting her natural body form, Sabrina's head was filled with calorie, cholesterol, and saturated fat numbers of virtually every form of junk food. And she _always_ felt the need to share it, at great length.

"Did you know that eating one honey bun is equal to eating four peanut butter jar's worth of fat? And, it may not hurt you now, but as the years go on all that fat is going to build up, clogging your arteries and veins, until you have a heart attack, or a stroke. And Cheerio's has ten grams of calories, and three percent saturated fat less than Reeses."

Maria munched thoughtfully before asking, "What size of peanut butter jars, Sabrina the Teenage Witch?"

"Would you stop calling me that, I don't get it!" Having spent only a year out of the sixteenth century island, Sabrina had spent those twelve months learning how to drive, how to buy and what to eat, and mastering the language of slang. She was so busy putting her new knowledge to party, Sabrina hadn't spent so much time zoning in front of the television.

Maria dropped the teasing, knowing very well Sabrina had her limits when it came to irritation. _Go too far and you might end up with inexplicable rashes, headaches, or hallucinations. _After devouring her savory unhealthy meal, Maria tried her hand at math again before gathering her books.

"Where are you going?" 

"The same place I go every single week day since we've met." Sabrina stared at her blankly. "Didn't I answer this yesterday?" Understanding dawned on her pretty face.

"College!" Maria nodded, and hurriedly fastened her watch and threw up her hair in a bun. 

"Good job, you get your certificate when I come home." Sabrina didn't snap at her sarcastic remark. Sleep took away her sense of hearing.

Later that day…

While talking to a concerned parent, Maria felt a tug on her shirt.

"Miss Maria, I need you to proofread my story." She excused herself from the father and took the little girl to children's table.

"Well, Vanessa, let me see it. Hand me that red crayon."

Vanessa reached over to the coloring bin, but held the crayon close to her. "What's the magic word?"

_Lordy, seven years old and she's still quoting the big purple dinosaur. _

"Please," she replied sweetly and was handed Raspberry Red crayon. As she read the two paragraph story, Maria held back the advanced grammatical skills, such as tenses, subject verb agreement, or noun clauses, and stuck to Vanessa's weakest skill: spelling.

"This is a very interesting mystery, Vanessa. But, you misspelled this, this, this, this, and this. That's only five words, you're improving. Still, I don't approve the use of alcohol in this story, spelled or misspelled."

"Tell me what's wrong with my words," she demanded, and, as always, took her work very seriously.

"First of all 'myst' is spelled m-i-s-t. Myst is either a name, or the title of an extremely good book, not the light fog that you think of at the beginning."

"That's how Heather told me to spell it," she protested stubbornly.

"Well, has Heather graduated high school? Remember, older sisters aren't as smart as the younger ones. And just because I'm telling you how to spell it, doesn't mean I'm telling you to keep it in here or ever drink it. This word is spelled b-r-a-n-d-y."

"But Brandi spells her name that way."

"But names and nouns are two different ways, Vanessa. And this one is…to tell you the truth, Vanessa, I can't read you're hand writing."

"That says Core, like you know, apple core?"

"Okay, if this is going to be a name, you might want to change it so people don't get confused." Vanessa snatched the correcting crayon from her hand, without using the magic word, and changed the name in the margin. Soon, Core became "Cohr," one of the many detectives Vanessa created in her long line mystery stories.

She left her to change the mistakes and a few minutes later was occupied brushing the sand out of toddler Crystal's hair. Maria took her time combing out the grains out of the fine chocolate hair, for she knew as soon as she solved one problem, another would pop up in the form of an innocent looking child.

There was an immeasurable amount of exhaustion in her when Maria arrived into the tiny apartment after work. The second she passed the doorway, Maria heard Sabrina's CD player, blasting songs from the Coyote Ugly Soundtrack. She believed Sabrina secretly longed for such a bar to exist, just she could have a chance to dance on the bar in scant clothing, soaking wet. 

_Thank god I have an hour till she goes club hopping_. A migraine loomed in the horizon, but Maria learned how to avoid or bear with those time stealers. Her personal recipe was BET's Planet Groove CD, and then staring at the ceiling for an hour or two. With drooping eyes, Maria dragged herself to her bedroom, ready for rest and relaxation.

"SABRINA!" In a heart beat, Maria burst through Sabrina's door. And immediately covered her eyes.

"What are you covering your eyes for? This is a top!"

For a second, Maria forgot her own terror to review Sabrina's outfit. "I could have sworn that was a bra, Sabrina."

"Well, it doesn't matter what _you_ think because I'm pretty sure your new boyfriend liked it."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah…I mean he is your boyfriend right? The guy who dropped off the puppy?"

"That's a puppy!? I was about to tell you there was an abnormal rat sitting on my bed!" Maria disregarded Sabrina's explanation and ran to her bedroom. On her bed sat a plump and confused young dog, scratching at a red bow around his neck. Once she flipped on the lights, he was alert for a millisecond, and then returned his attention to the bow and then to lick his…private area. Maria held her hand to it as if she had a treat. He rushed towards her, and she grabbed him before he could leave her empty hand. No note, no card, nothing to tell her who it was. The only information she acquired was that the puppy was going to be a very big dog. And since his future size was the last question in her mind, Maria left to make conversation with her promiscuous friend.

"What did he look like?" Sabrina looked up and then swore, for she was busy applying fake eyelashes when Maria burst in again.

"Who?"

"The man who dropped off the puppy!" Maria literally bit her sharp tongue to restrain the verbal lashing. "Sabrina, we just went over this." Maria kept herself from screaming any more, partly because although Sabrina was built like the gorgeous Barbie, she didn't have the mind capability to do any of her jobs, including dog walking. It wasn't her fault. During the years that should have been spent on common sense and academics, her austere father had ensured that Sabrina had learned to embroidery and witchcraft. She was the epitome of the stereotypical "dumb blonde," but wouldn't be for long.

"Well," she said, using a voice reserved for bragging about her long list of bed escapades, "he was tall, with like a light brown, but it was also dark hair…"

"Dark red?"

"Yeah! And I couldn't really see the color of his eyes because they were looking at my chest…"

_Bull shit._ "Were they bluish green?" Sabrina nodded. "Did you see any rings on him, any necklaces?"

"Um…I think it was either a ring, bracelet or a watch. Either way, there was a flower on it. Your boyfriend might have been going both ways when he came here, but he's all for the women now that he's met me." Sabrina made it very clear what she was implying.

"Wow, I'd believe you…except I'm not high nor drunk," Sabrina tried to decide if it was a compliment or insult, but gave up and turned her attentions to the next question. "Do you know if he went through anything in my room?"

"Oh, I…" Sabrina stopped her application of make up and twirled the strands of her golden hair. "I…I don't remember." 

Maria narrowed her eyes. It was normal for Sabrina to forget the day of the week, but not to forget any encounter with a handsome stranger. 

"There's a no pet's policy in this complex," Maria complained. Sabrina resumed her eye make up task.

"Oh that's no problem either. Because, I was all like 'hey, we can't have pets' and he's all like 'don't worry about it, I'll take care of it.' Isn't that cool? And just an hour ago, everybody got a flier from the land lord saying pets are allowed! I think your new beau has the hots for me."

Maria snorted in disgust, ready to leave. "Sabrina, you think priests and rabbis, damn even homosexual men have the hots for you. Believe it or not, my new 'beau' _doesn't_ have the hots for you." Having enough of the exasperating conversation, Maria made her way to her room.

"And just how would you know," she heard Sabrina mutter under her breath.

"Because he has taste!" she yelled before slamming her bedroom door, startling the puppy from its nap. She tried to ignore his inquisitive yet adorable stare as she surveyed her desk and drawers. Maria checked which files were last accessed on her laptop. Valdis had seen several of her essays, poems, and her past Christmas list. The puppy whimpered.

Maria faced him like a soldier heading into battle. Animal shelters, pet want ads, and pet shops filled her mind. "Now, what am I going to do with you?"

~*~*~*~

September 21, 2000

California

It was noon all ready. Thierry had told him that Poppy's flight had left at ten thirty. And it didn't take that long to leave Las Vegas. 

"She didn't come home with me, I'm not going to go get her."

James had been telling himself that all day. He had been pacing for three hours since he woke up, imagining the fate of his Poppy and what world record of pacing he broke. And then he told himself:

"But what if she gets kidnapped or stranded at the airport? But if she does, it would be her own fault any way for not coming when I offered. But then again she could defend for herself, but not if they're from the Night World…"

"Who's from the Night World?" James turned to find Poppy standing in their doorway, with her purse in one hand and a valise in the other.

"Uh…nobody." He wasn't startled to find that she had crept up on him without any detection, he was startled because she was actually speaking to him, other than "excuse me," or "pass the salt." Not wanting to ruin whatever mood she was in, he quickly took the valise from her and settled it in their bedroom.

"James," she called from the kitchen, and her voice did not carry the chill as it had on the rare moments she spoke to him. Happy but unwilling to submit to her un-adopting wishes, James slowly made his way to the kitchen, suddenly the place of life changing matters, and sat at the table, a safe distance away from her and any possible tantrums.

"In the mansion," she began in a business like voice, yet her usual mirth was barely subdued, "I have done some talkin' to Maria Tybal. Now don't you dare make that face, because although she hasn't made a full one eighty, she's pretty close. She's more like a full one hundred. And, with all the hell that girl's been dragged through, I'd say she's got some wisdom knocked into her along the way. She told me what you said to me two weeks ago. I guess I just had to hear from someone who knew from experience." Poppy plopped into the chair across from him and then leaned forward. Fleetingly, she reminded him of Poppy from their child hood, leaning her freckled face closer to tell him a secret she had told nobody else. Shaking off the nostalgic thoughts, he leaned forward also.

"And I was thinking that maybe we could…" Poppy looked straight into his eyes. "…you know."

_That was it?_ That's what she thought of it, a "you know" subject. "Yes, I know but I want to hear you say it."

"Well, you won't, you know perfectly well what I'm saying," she returned to her brisk manner, and left the table to make a show of searching for something in the drawers. "Besides, I've already contacted one of the agencies Thierry told me about. We're going to have a person come by next week to interview us. It's in the bag."

James smiled at her in surprise. Just when he believed she wasn't entirely ready to undergo the adopting process, he learned she was two steps ahead of him. With a silly smile, she came over and snuggled onto his lap. The "I love you," was unneeded, for their actions meant more than words.

"Now we're going to have a family…well, at least in a year or two."

James kissed her briefly before he asked, perplexed, "Why?".

"Because that's how long it takes, stupid," she bantered, stroking his hair. "It's not like adopting a puppy!"

~*~*~*~

September 23, 2000

New York City, New York 

Maria yawned and stumbled out of bed. Just as she took her first few steps of the day, she tripped and landed flat on her face. Something began to lick her feet.

"Cerberus!" Maria drew her foot back to kick at it, but stopped herself when it whimpered. She suspected her new puppy had recently discovered the amazing power one whimper held. She sighed tiredly had carried it to the kitchen like a baby.

"Ew, get Gerbil out of the kitchen!" Sabrina exclaimed with exaggerated disgust.

"First of all, his name is Cerberus, second of all, it's as much his kitchen as it is yours." _So shut up._ Maria scooped a handful of dog food and dropped it in his bowl. 

"I thought you were going to give it to the animal shelter."

"They uthenize animals there. I found it inhumane…and as soon as I find somebody willing to buy the mutt, he'll be gone. Be good," she told both of them and went off to prepare for school.

"Now do you remember what I told you," she quizzed Sabrina as she checked herself in the mirror.

"Don't kick the dog and don't let that boy in again," Sabrina droned with disinterest.

"Good." Maria was pleased she hadn't forgotten with her short term memory. "I'm off, and try to call your grandma for the rent money." With that friendly note, Maria left, gently shutting the door behind her.

From then on, Mari hauled herself into a world of notes and books. To her, college was similar to high school in the aspect that she didn't care what anybody thought of her in both cases. Different because she actually had to work to understand the lessons; in high school, understanding the subjects came easily as one, two, three. 

And, completely unlike high school, Maria made friends. Not strong, solid friends like everybody had as a safety net when they fell from their problems, but friends who said hi to her in the hall way, and invited her to clubs and parties. That was enough, for now at least.

Her Greek Mythology professor was particularly charming. And young. For her part, Maria speculated with her other class mates that he was under thirty five but older than twenty six. Many of her female and some male friends hoped for a chance of romance with him. Maria knew better, for she spied a black iris branded on the handle of his leather bound suit case. She wondered if he lived in the time when people actually worshipped Zeus, Hera, Hermes, Athena, or Artemis. No matter his age, Maria did not consider him a threat. None of the Night World knew that the Wild Powers had lost the blue fire, with the exception of Valdis.

Her last class ended at six, and she made her way home. Trudging up the steps with a bubble bath in mind, Maria nearly crunched on something placed on their door mat. Twelve roses. Blue roses.

She had typed it on her Christmas list with Tennessee William's "The Glass Menagerie" in mind, with the shy girl nick named "Blue Roses." Maria never expected it, for it was a whim and blue roses never naturally existed in the world. Gingerly picking up the fragrant dozen, Maria entered the apartment, and nearly stumbled over Cerberus' napping head.

"Oh, that dog!" Maria exclaimed impatiently, and drew Sabrina out of the room. 

"Roses! For me?" Sabrina squealed and made an attempt to take them from her. Maria turned away sharply. 

"They're not for you," she stated resolutely and moved to the kitchen with Cerberus winding between her legs.

"How do you know? There's not a card, and it must be for me. You said that you didn't have a boyfriend."

"I know, and I note how your memory improves when you want something. Tell me, what's wrong with these roses?"

"They're in your hands," Sabrina replied tartly and pounced for them, only to be stopped by the counter between them.

"No," _idiot_, "they're blue."

"So?"

"Blue roses aren't natural."

"Whatever…never mind any way. I don't want those like cheap roses, their stems are all stained."

Maria wondered if it was possible for her roommate to say a sentence without "like" or "all." She peered down at the roses, and true to the idiot's word, there were dark green marks on the smooth stems. Maria grabbed a magnifying glass from the junk drawer and examined them with a closer view. It seemed too coincidental that each stain was placed carefully on the same place with the same length on each stem. Through her squinted eyes, phrases began to be distinguished the phrases.

I'm sorry, but I told you anything but that. I'd rather burn in hell than 

hurt you Again. even though I want your happiness, I don't think you know 

what kind of Happiness we can have if you just gave us a chance. That 

doesn't mean I think You're too stupid or just a female who doesn't know her 

choices. I think it means You're still scared of getting hurt. But if you don't 

take chances, Maria, then how Will you ever know if you might have had 

true love? Please, I've made mistakes and so have you. But you have 

repented yours. You are the only one to repent Mine. If there is nothing else 

to say or to do, then just tell me that in all the time We've known each other, 

that there was a time that you found me honorable Just knowing that you 

possibly loved me, for one evanescent moment, will Keep me content until

the end of time…or until we're together, in this life time Or another. Valdis.

Blue roses and tiny words on each stem. Maria suspected witch powers were called in for this effort. Or a very talented miniaturist scribe. Once again, he analyzed her innermost feelings with complete accuracy. Through any form of communications, whether it be through technology or romantic flowers, he had shaken her strong stock of denial. It wasn't fair. She didn't allow anybody to understand, let alone tell her how she felt, and the man knew her thoroughly from looks from afar. And yet she had no idea what made him suddenly "love" her, or seek her forgiveness from anybody. And of course there was a time when she was happy in his presence, he must have known that. Who wouldn't be happy to be saved when one was slashed in both neck and abdomen? 

No, it wasn't fair at all. Maria needed somebody to help her with this, in fact, the only person who's actually helped her with her personal life instead of blundering into it, and deciding actions for themselves. She needed Martha.

"Sabrina I'm leaving for a while. Feed the dog before you go but _no_ beer."

An hour later, Maria stood anxiously on a small porch. The lights were out, and not a soul was heard, not even the "damn noisy neighbors" on the floor above. She had no way to try to contact her, she didn't even know her number, home or work. And her daughter was most likely off at another sleep over. Maria's taxi cab had left in a hurry, and the air was thick and heavy, anticipating the fall of rain. The entire street was dark, and the street lights struggled to fight off the moist blackness. 

Then, as if the sky mercifully let out a ray of sunshine, Maria spotted a golden beam two blocks away. It was a church tower. Ignoring the fact that she hadn't entered a place of worship in years, Maria quickly made her way to the ornately styled church. As she neared, a faint choir of children was heard. Maria paused near the doorway to read the plaque.

"Saint Aloysius," she read aloud, wondering if her mother ever attended mass there. Without hesitating, she pushed the heavy doors and made the sign of the cross with holy water in the lobby.

When she entered the main part, Maria was in awe. The churches in Georgia never looked so elegant, for most took the modern and technological style. Stained glass windows lined both east and west walls. The ceiling far above had paintings similar to those of the Sistine Chapel. At the end of the red carpeted aisle laid the altar, with massive white marble stairs which led to the golden and jewel studded altar table. An organ, with pipes tall enough to reach the ceiling, stood near the side. Maria wondered where the angelic voices practiced and looked up to find herself standing beneath a balcony of sorts. And there in the higher shelf of seats sat an uncomfortable, or bored, assortment of boys, ranging from kindergarten to early teens.

"Excuse me," she heard somebody address her and turned around. An elderly nun looked at her with a mixture of kindness and reprehension. Maria sensed that this church received many fearful sinners, hence the sister's cautious behavior. And who wouldn't in such a neighborhood?

"Are you here for confession?" Maria shook her head and then stopped herself. _I did need somebody to talk to after all, and the priest won't even see my face any way._

"Lead the way," she answered brightly. The nun nodded and led her between the wooden pews to small confession room. 

Maria sat in the dim confession booth until she heard the slot slide open, and saw the dark profile of a man through the wicker like screen. For a moment she forgot what to say, until the priest cleared his throat.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been…" Maria counted on her fingers, "about five to seven fuzzy years since my last confession." She thought she heard the priest give a low whistle and then called it her imagination.

"And what is this sin my child?" Maria couldn't help but roll her eyes at the my child bit.

"I…I've denied a man happiness, possibly his life happiness" she whispered, grateful nobody could see her anguished face.

"And why have you denied him happiness?"

"For my own," she murmured, with her eyes cast down. Despite the darkness and the screen hiding her identity, she felt the man's gaze on her. The pressure to speak was almost tangible, so Maria blurted:

"And before you ask why, it's because…well because I'm screwed up, Father. I'm just a mess of emotional scars. And he's screwed up, too. And when you have two screwed up people in love, that's just a recipe for catastrophe, or heart break. Or a guess spot on the Jerry Springer Show. And, I know you can't really relate, Father, but can you tell me how to get out of this thing, guilt free? Oh, and pardon my French."

"Are you gifted with second sight?"

"Actually, no, I wear contacts." The Father laughed.

"No, second sight is the ability to read the future. How are you so sure this will end in heartbreak? I'm no expert in romance, but I'm pretty sure you must have an open heart to truly attain solid knowledge."

In her mind, Maria thought of one of her favorite quotes, this one overheard from a class mate. _Knowledge is power; power corrupts. Learn more and be evil._

"And just how do you know that?" Maria retorted out smartly before she could stop herself.

" 'Let not mercy and truth forsake you; Bind them around your neck, Write them on the tablet of your heart.'" 

"How poetic, did you write that yourself?"

"Actually, it's from the Bible."

"Really?" Maria propped her chin on the sill where the screen kept them apart. "And just what else does this Bible say?"

"It says that 'Hatred stirs up strife, But love covers all sins.' Does that help you my child?"

"I don't know, padre, between me and this guy, I think we've broken all Ten Commandments. Except, for adultery that is, oh and that carved image one," she added quickly, hoping that the priest didn't fear there were heathen in his confession booth.

"What the Bible says, the Bible says," he stated simply. She supposed that was the clergy's version of "Stupid is as stupid does." Maria pulled on her jacket to go when the priest's voice stopped her. 

"My child, just one thing…are you even Catholic?"

Maria grinned, and recalled her lost of faith when the first tragedy struck. At the time, people said her family's death was a test of faith. She called it petty retaliation for missing a few days in church and using the Lord's name in vain once or ten times. Perhaps it was simply a time to stop depending on god and start depending on herself. Either way, she had found her way back. "Once upon a time, I was. Maybe I will be again."

~*~*~*~

September 26, 2000

Arizona

"I thought you said last week would be the last call," Ash whispered, and peered over his shoulder. Mary Lynnette was nowhere in sight.

"I know, I know, but I still need some help. She's not doing anything, I wrote her everything and she's still not showing signs of knowing anything. What does it mean?"

"Gee, genius, did you say just how to contact you if she did want another go at it?" Silence from the other line. "Oh my god, you didn't even tell her. I don't know why I ever agreed to help you…"

"Hey," Valdis interrupted, "you're helping me because you've been in my position before. Bad guy trying to do good. Back in the day, Ash Redfern, I used to look up to you, and you were _much_ worse than I was."

"Jesus Christ, Valdis, at least I never bitch slapped my soul mate!" he nearly screamed in annoyance. "You may have been a friend of mine before, but now…"

"Don't you ever mention that again. I know that it was desecration of God's most beautiful creation…" Not exactly what Ash had in mind. "But I don't need you reprimanding me, or anyone else. Listen, you betrayed _me_. Besides, I'm trying to change, just like you did. Circle Daybreak won't let me join them, so I don't have that convenience. Just give me some more help and then I'll never speak to you again."

_Right, like I never heard that one before_. "I don't even know Maria that well, how am I supposed to know what she'd like?" Ash heard Mary Lynnette shuffle upstairs and lowered his voice.

"That doesn't matter, Redfern, because out of all the people who knew her, you're the only one who owes me one. Don't forget who helped convince the Council to let you leave the enclave unscathed," he warned.

"How could I forget, you remind me at least once a week since Labor Day. Valdis, I don't know what to do in your situation…"

"But you were in my situation before!"

"This is a little different, pal, Mary Lynnette and I were on speaking terms when we hated each other." He heard Valdis sigh, a sigh Ash often let out on the road while thinking of Mary Lynnette. Pity wrapped around his heart.

"Fine, fine, the only thing you could do is keep trying. What's next on birthday list?"

"Roller blades."

"Never mind, what's on the Christmas List?"

"All it says is PG. And there's no explanation whatsoever." Ash turned to see Mary Lynnette's feet descending the stair way.

"Then get the next thing on her list, with a romantic twist. I gotta go bye." He hung up just as she entered the kitchen. He embraced her from behind in a great bear hug.

"Good morning to you, too. Who was that on the phone?"

"Valdis," Ash mumbled truthfully, knowing very well she'd find out the truth sooner or later. Mary Lynnette almost choked on her granola bar.

"Did you just say Valdis? As in Valdis Eldson, man who nearly killed the fourth Wild Power?"

"Yes, Valdis Eldson, man who helped me leave the enclave safely. I owed him."

"Does he want Maria tied up with a bow on top?" she badgered him.

"No," he defended his old friend, "he wants tips on how to seduce the little lady into accepting their soul mate ship."

"Seduction? Why would he want to ask you?" Ash shrugged, uncomfortable with the subject. The last thing he needed was a rumor saying Ash was aiding the Night World.

Mary Lynnette sensed this and let the conversation die. Her soul mate had made some progress on following his conscience, and if he felt that assisting an unrequited love situation was right, then she would leave it alone.

"So are you ready for a day of lolligagging and then star watching in our brand new observatory?" She started abruptly, excitement evident in her voice.

"You're kidding, we have an observatory? Since when did we acquire one of those fancy do-hickeys? And from who?" Ash asked in mock amazement. 

"From a devilishly handsome, surprisingly intelligent fellow. Goes by the name of Redfern," Mary Lynnette explained, giggling. She rose to throw away her granola bar wrappers when Ash grabbed her around the waist and swung her to his lap.

"Anybody I know?" He asked, and leaned his head very close to hers.

"Yeah, his name was like Ass or something like that, I can't quite remember…" Ash stood up and she fell to the ground with a thud and an "ouch."

"Geez, Mary Lynnette, we got a busy schedule ahead of us. You can't waste both our times when we're supposed to be lolligagging!" She grabbed an apple off the table and threw it at his head. He let it hit him, for had grown accustomed to physical abuse from his soul mate.

~*~*~*~

September 30, 2000

New York City, New York

Maria came home to an apartment full of chocolates. Every flavor of every kind of every brand took occupation on every available space of the living room, kitchen, and her bedroom. Boxes made a walk way of sorts to the kitchen table, where heart shaped chocolates spelled out a number. Cerberus sat struggling with the plastic wrap of a Godiva box. 

Sabrina, who was off on an early date ending at six, flew into the apartment a few minutes after her. She halted in her tracks, nearly sliding into a pyramid of boxes.

"Holy shit! I know for sure that none of my boyfriends did this, they're not rich enough. Damn, is this from Belgium," she squealed and seized a red and white box of chocolates. Maria snatched it away and read the brand.

"Ugh, he's reading my list!" As usual, Sabrina stared at her blankly, except this time there was a greed for sweets in her blue eyes.

"My Christmas list, and my birthday list. He's getting me everything on there! Except," she said, observing her surroundings, "he's going way overboard."

"You had chocolates on your Christmas list? Wow, you're cheap."

"A type of chocolates from Georgia, that Carol used to buy for me before the arguing years. I never thought he'd…"

"Go there? Hey, as far as I can tell, this guy will go to India to get you porcelain."

"That's China you dumb ass."

"Whatever!" Maria muffled a laugh when Sabrina actually made a "w" with her fingers. _It's official: there is such thing as stupidity personified. And she's trying to give me advice._

"Why don't you just go out with him already!? Or better yet, keep him waiting and see what else he gets you!" 

Maria sighed and threw her the box of chocolates into her arms to shut her up. She asked anybody who she thought was wise, from the priest to Martha. And she had a feeling anybody, at least those who didn't know the details of their relationship, would have said, "Give him a chance." 

"Jesus please us, if only it was that easy." Although there was no doubt in her mind that there was no hope at all about their relationship, or lack thereof, Maria copied the number spelled out on the table into her phone book before eating every single chocolate heart.

~*~*~*~

October 3, 2000

New York City, New York

PG. PG. It had to be initials for something, he just couldn't figure out what. It was obvious she wouldn't want a movie rating for Christmas. PG.

"Pans of gold?" Even the pigeons of Central Park looked at him with disappointment.

"Pigeons? Pretty grass? Pink glasses?" The pigeons gave him a condescending look. He threw the bread crumbs at them, including the bag. The corpulent birds fluttered about until they settled to peck at the free meal.

"All I know is that it has to be important. She's putting all the things that she wished she had on that list. I just have to give every single thing and hope for the best." Valdis sat on the bench lost in his thoughts, and missed the appreciative stares of the women who passed him, once or twice.

"I got it," he exclaimed suddenly. The pigeons flew up at his loud epiphany.

"I'll just question those closest to her! And they would be…Hannah, her Aunt, and that Martha woman. That Martha woman is off limits because she'll clue Maria and then Maria will suspect that I'm a threat. Hannah's…we won't even go there. So that leaves that damn prating and absolutely frivolous woman." Time for another flight down south, but not before one more present to Maria.

Valdis' hasty departure was good riddance to the greedy birds.

~*~*~*~

October 7, 2000

Unexpectedly, a migraine blasted into her temples without their usual warnings. Maria was grateful that it came after she had studied and presented her one on one oral book report on Thoreau. Nonetheless, it stole her time to finish the chocolates.

Each clang of her foot made against the metal steps pounded with ten times the intensity as it had in the empty stair way. Droplets, landing with joyful pops into invading puddles, taunted her with their unattainable tranquillity. She was rising in possibly the only hushed stair well, and the tiny sounds drove her into crippling pain. Maria sighed; it seemed nothing made sense any more. When she reached her door, her thoughts rushed between headaches, back aches, and chocolates so much she hadn't thought about a new gift.

"Okay, this guy, the one who I wasn't supposed to let in, I didn't let him in, I swear!" Sabrina greeted her with a rapid explanation. "Besides, I think he's getting cheap on you, all he got you was a picture." Maria's migraine heightened.

She thought she mumbled something berating, but she wasn't sure with chaos running amuck on her skull. Maria picked up the wooden frame resting on the couch, took refuge in her dark room, and tossed the picture on her bed. Cerberus scratched at the door outside, but fatigue forced her to ignore him. In a sluggish manner, she turned on the CD player and scrambled for the Planet Groove CD.

"To hell with it," she mumbled and popped in the nearest disc. Still in her presentation attire, very similar to a female corporate executive, Maria crawled under her the cool bed sheets. She blinked.

When she awoke, Maria couldn't distinguish any shapes or forms, and couldn't tell what time it was or how long she had slept. For a few seconds she couldn't even tell where she was. Then a sharp jab at her thigh knocked her back into awareness. Maria threw her stuffed animals at her light switch until one beanie baby pig finally pushed the switch to on. Once light filled her room, Maria grabbed the sharp object, ready to catapult it out the window for injuring her so, when she took a closer look.

"No way," she gasped, amazed for maybe the third time in her life time. "No way!" she repeated, screaming at the top of her lungs. 

"What? Where is it?" Sabrina ran it, rather tipsy, with a rolled up newspaper in one hand and a plastic baggy in the other. Maria shoved the picture in her face, all but shaking with excitement.

Sabrina took it and raised with a perfectly plucked eye brow. "One's cute, but you can take the old man."

"Hello! It's Joe Torre and Derek Jeter! He got me their autographs, oh my god!" Maria clutched the framed treasure to her chest and flopped backwards on her bed. 

"Okay then," Sabrina murmured, in a tone suggesting she was the challenged one, and ran out of the apartment when they heard a car beep outside.

Maria thought it would be silent once the witch was gone but then heard the faint tinkling of her CD player. In her torpid haze, she had slipped Jewel's debut album on continual play. Ignoring the lulling melody, Maria set about to gather the generous presents. Every once in a while, however, particular verses of the next song would slip in her ears while she uncovered the items.

__

Please don't say I love you,

Those words touch me much too deeply

And they make my core tremble

Don't you realize the power you have over me

She kicked open the door and coaxed Cerberus onto the bed. He happily obliged after some skepticism of her invitation. Maria never allowed him to reside on furniture before.

__

Please don't kiss me so sweet

It makes me crave a thousand kisses to follow

And please don't touch me like that

Makes every other embrace seem pale and shallow…

She scoured the kitchen floors and counters. A thorough search ensued in Sabrina's place of relaxation. Then she realized she had left them somewhere in her own cluttered domain.

__

Please don't send me flowers

They only whisper the sweet things you'd say.

Don't try to understand me

Your hands already know too much anyway…

After hovering about like a metal detector over a sandy beach, Maria plunged her hands into a pile of clothes and pulled out the still fresh, now slightly bent, bouquet of blue roses and set them on the bed. Maria remembered the chocolates.

__

It's nothing that I understand, but when in your arms

You have complete power over me

So be gentle if you please…

She gathered what she could with one trip and piled them onto her bed, and distracted Cerberus' attention from the cerulean and sky blue flowers. And last but certainly not least, she placed the autograph propped up on the bed corner.

__

And it makes me want to make you near me always

I want to be near you always…

In irritation, she shut CD player off. She didn't like the way songs had a nasty habit of putting their two cents into personal situations. Maria crossed her arms and faced her presents. Cerberus was the only one who looked up.

She sighed at the petulance of the situation. It was wrong. Wrong to keep the tokens of love and give no love in return. By accepting the gifts, by naming the damn dog, she had encouraged him through her actions while her words had said quite another. Hypocrisy had crept upon her and stolen her sight of morality, the little of it. There was nothing to do except return them. And the path away from sanctimony laid in seven numbers scribbled on a rumpled scrap of paper on her desk. 

Maria forced herself to turn away from the presents as she waited for him to pick up the phone. She couldn't bear to face Derek Jeter or Joe Torre's smiling faces and, she grudgingly admitted, the dog.

~*~*~*~

October 13, 2000

Las Vegas, Nevada

Keller was having a marvelous time. In their nursery, Apollo slept peacefully in his crib while Galen snored on the floor next to it. Funny how father and son bore such resemblance to Mustafa and Simba on _The Lion King_. She shifted and poured more bubble bath under the fall of running water. It didn't matter if she splashed gallons of water on her tiled bath room floor. After all, it was her house and she would remember to mop it up later. Just as long as she had some peace and quiet.

She tried to remember the last time she felt so exhausted and content at the same time. _Oh yeah, Iliana, the dragon, Galen…,_but that didn't result in a new addition of the family. A boisterous, whimsical, emotional, and energetic addition, to say the least. But she would live the nights of cradling Apollo to sleep, imagining spoonfuls of food as airplanes, or battling him in the war of dressing up a thousand times over just to hear him laugh. Keller couldn't explain, just as she couldn't explain why she knew how to take care of him. Instinct, she supposed.

While half submerged in her personal sea of bubbles, she contemplated her future. Not the immediate future, such as Apollo's lunch, as she had a habit of doing since July. She pondered the rest of her life, such as Apollo's college and her grand children. What she would do with her career as a Circle Daybreaker, for instance. Keller was certain that all members would retain the title as a Daybreakers, the strong, but what of their duties? There were no more blonde pieces of fluff to guard, and no more newbies to train. With the diminishing numbers of the enemy, the need for protectors and body guards decreased. It didn't mean that these Daybreakers were put on the streets, Goddess knew they had plenty of ways to make money. It just meant that they would slip into "normal" lives, like the ones they often watched on TV. But for some, it would be such a dull livelihood compared to their previous occupation. Keller wondered just how Rashel would function; most likely teaching self defense classes or something similar.

But for herself…well, she wouldn't stay a house wife. But she wasn't so sure what she was good at other than protecting others. Perhaps celebrities…no. If she lost her patience with the bubbly Iliana, only Goddess knows what bodily harm she'd inflict on the movie stars. Whatever her career decision might be, she knew she'd have her family's approval. And if all else failed, she'd have Galen and Apollo to turn to; Galen would assume the head of the house of Drache, while Apollo…Keller guessed would become somebody unbelievably admirable or important. The thoughts of President of the US or head of Circle Daybreak, or better yet, the worlds most famous and successful military hero…someday. 

So lost in her thoughts was the relaxing mother that she did not hear the phone just outside the bath room door until the answering machine blared into her thoughts. 

"This is probably the strangest request that you've heard from probably the strangest person you know…and you're probably listening and rolling your eyes right about now." Coincidentally, Keller had just rolled her eyes, grabbed a towel, and rose from the tub.

"But I needed to ask somebody who really understood me for the rotten person I am and the history of every thing else…"

Keller picked up the phone tried her best not to drip on the blue carpet. "Get to the point, Tybal."

"I knew you were there! Oh, okay, I'll try to make it was quick as possible. Valdis is sending presents, I like them but I'm not sure if I like him, and he says that he's sorry for everything he's said and done and he claims he's done a full three sixty. What should I do?" She sputtered out in one quick breath.

"And you're asking me because…" 

"I need somebody who would be totally honest with me, without fear of hurting my feelings, to give me advice, hard core, no doubt in mind advice. Please? C'mon you know I wouldn't ask if this wasn't desperately important."

Keller sighed, and sensed that Tybal would call her or beg her until she gave some decisive words of wisdom.

"Just follow what your head says. In my personal opinion, once a close minded, macho jerk, always a close minded macho jerk. Isn't that what you're thinking?"

"Well…yeah."

"So what's the problem, Tybal?"

"Every time I make it a point to give back everything, some meaningful song comes on, or I read a book with similar situations, and I swear to god, Keller, it's like I get palpitations whenever I think of him."

"Listen to me, you called me for advice and I'm giving it to you my piece of mind. Take it or leave it."

She heard Maria sigh miserably. "Fine, fine, fine…just one more thing, Keller. What did you do, when you didn't want to be soul mates with Galen?"

"I…"Keller faltered. "I followed my head," she confirmed, uncertainly, "eventually…Okay fine, so maybe you shouldn't think of reason so much when in comes to these matters. But, Tybal, by the sound of it, this Eldson character is horrible and incurable."

"Keller, he bought me a puppy."

She heard the faint movements from the nursery, and expected one cranky blonde and another hungry for mashed banana.

"Let me guess, he put its hacked up pieces in a big box on your door mat."

"No, it was alive and healthy. He even put a bow on it." Keller raised her eyebrows. It was unheard of for the Night World vampires to treat anybody of the dog family with that much care.

"Are you sure there isn't some slow acting drug in it…"

"Yes, I'm sure. He bought me roses, three roomfuls of chocolates, and autographs. He's getting me everything I had on my Christmas list. And I really, really want to keep them," she admitted, rather selfishly.

"Listen, I'm about five minutes away from a diaper change and soul mate maintenance, so I'm going to tell you what probably everybody else who you've asked has told you. Do what you feel is right." And without a good bye, Maria heard a click and a dial tone. It was typical Keller behavior, at least towards her.

In New York, Maria hung up the phone in a confused, detached manner. That was not what she wanted. She wanted to hear Keller insult her, and then tell her she was crazy for even considering a relationship. All she needed was a push in the right direction, but all signs pointed the other way, what she thought of as a dead end. Maria chuckled at her strange metaphor. 

"Screw this," she said with an attempt of decisiveness. "I don't need anybody's advice. Besides, they don't know him like I do." She moved to bathroom to splash her face with freezing water, with the hope of finding fresh sensibility. Maria looked at her reflection and found a small girl of twenty, lost and frustrated out of her mind.

"Girl, you're road kill," she told her in a confiding manner. She nodded in agreement and caught sight of the telephone in the mirror, just outside the door. There was no harm in trying.

By this time she had memorized the number and pushed the buttons with growing agitation, with a contradicting hopes of his presence and absence. He wasn't there, but this time she would leave him a message on his machine, one that she had prepared for more than a week now.

"Valdis, this is…well, you probably already know who it is. And I don't know if you're listening right now or off somewhere doing God knows what…any ways, I just called to say that I can't accept them. I can't encourage this any more," her voice trembled a bit and she pretended to clear her throat. "I'll just leave it in my living room and, since you obviously have an easy way of entering, you could get them as soon as possible. And if you don't want them, I'll donate them to somebody. Because you can't erase the past with gifts, you know that. I can't forget with a bouquet of roses. Well, I've been taking up too much of your time and that's it." Maria glanced at the clock, 8:30, far too early for her room mate to finish partying.

Sabrina burst in with two men at her heels. Too troubled to snap at the males' vulgar once overs or invitations to clubs, Maria retreated to her room. A moment later, her door open and Cerberus was pushed out. Even in her sanctuary, she couldn't find a way to escape her problems. 

_He_ had been here. _He_ had invaded her files and papers to find out what she liked. _He_ had scoffed at her new life, _he_ had begged her forgiveness. He changed _everything_, just when she wanted normalcy. A small headache was inevitable, but she sat at her desk with her head down in hopes of avoiding it any way. It always worked in mind numbing high school.

_When all else fails, turn to what's mightier than the sword._ She grabbed a notepad and a Crayola marker, and scribbled her emotions on paper.

My hope was rising, growing

My life restarted, and was showing

That there were second chances

To stop standing or sneaking glances

So that I could start living my life

With nothing like pain or strife.

Until you came.

Why are you doing this, what do you need?

It's not a question of your desire, not your greed.

What I want is my life, not our life as one.

There is past that can't be undone.

So stop. 

Just stop.

Stop being there for me, stop trying.

We both know how this will end,

You'll be angry, and I'll be crying.

My love today and will never be bought,

My heart's leaving you, and will never be caught.

I'm sorry.

We're meant for each other, but then we're not.

Maria sat back and reviewed what she had just written. As always, it never satisfied her. In her mind, her poetry was nothing compared to Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, or Maya Angelou. "Hell, it's not good enough for fortune cookies."

Maria crumpled the sheet of paper and threw it in her over filled trash bin. Sounds of sleazy good-byes trespassed in her place of peace. Just as she stood to complain of her nightly visitors for the first time, Sabrina opened the door and quietly slipped in.

"Maria, I was thinking that something's been bothering for a while…," she began gingerly and sat Indian style in front of her. Intrigued, Maria sat also, so that they could see eye to eye. 

"And tonight, while Robby and Mitch left, the light bulb in my head just suddenly turned on."

_More like somebody lit a small candle._ But she encouraged her to continue, eager what philosophy the naïve witch had produced.

"I think the guy who's sending these presents is Valdis, and I know about your story with him."

_That's all?_

"And, you don't need him. I mean, you really don't. Before the witches seceded from the Night World, I had a friend who had a cousin who was good buddies with this guy. And, with all the stuff they've boasted about, he is seriously un-curable."

"Incurable," she corrected.

"Whatever. I mean, you've been thinking this all along right? So what's taking you so long!? Just tell him to blow off, and get rid of that mutt. And, I promise on my mother's grave…"

"She's not dead," Maria protested.

"All right then, if you want to get technical, I swear on my dead raven's grave that I'll bring home a boyfriend for you. I have plenty of extras."

"Gee thanks," she muttered. "For the advice," she added when she saw Sabrina's hurt eyes. "But right now I need some sleep, I have a very hard class tomorrow," she lied. Sabrina nodded, perhaps forgetting that the next day was a Saturday. After tripping twice over the mess Maria refused to clean up, Sabrina left with a helpful smile.

_Poor girl, she probably thinks she's done something important._

Writing didn't mitigate the pain, nor the emotional pandemonium warring in her mind. She was both restless and tired; scared but also fearless. Maria found the four yellow walls unbearable, but could not summon a relaxing place outside her apartment. All she wanted to do was leave the world behind.

The streets weren't empty, but the few who wandered about seemed hollow or hopeless, as if they had no comfort in their homes either. The air was crisp, and she met every corner with chilling winds. It was unusually quiet, and the common disturbances of the peace were nowhere in sight. Dead leaves swirled about her swift feet, and the street lights she passed either flickered unexpectedly or glared severely. 

She felt rain drops on her nose. It didn't matter, a little rain never hurt anybody. She moved her conflux to the rhythm of her feet, clad in Nike tennis shoes. That's all that mattered now, just to keep running, and to let the world pass by in a blur. She felt as if the farther away she ran, the less she had to face when she returned; that the issues would die down or fly away during the hours she was gone.

Maria had no idea where she was or what time it was. Even Sabrina wouldn't have gone jogging alone at night. But when Maria ran alone, an expression of utter determination usually made potential muggers, rapists, or scoundrels let her alone. She just wished that a simple facial expression would scare off one special scoundrel.

There was something in the chilling air, something that she felt was a little more than electricity. Suddenly, Maria lost her mask of invulnerability, and realized she was lost. No cars in sight, no familiar street signs, nobody on the streets. She'd rather run than stand helplessly, and be the primary target for criminals. Taking turns when she guessed she needed to, Maria found herself even more confused than before. No matter where she went, no matter how far she ran, there was still no one, and the rain pounded even harder with the wind directing the liquid bullets to aim diagonally. 

Instinct told her no doors of the stores would be open, it was far too late for that. Maria tried to descry the street signs and which turns would lead into dead ends. When she turned at a curb, certain it would lead her back to her apartment.

"It's in your eyes, and in the sky." Maria didn't stop to hear the insane woman's cackling behind her, which most would have found disturbing. In fact, she was glad to hear somebody's voice. New York City was desolate during the lonely hours she spent running.

"I said it's in your eyes." This time she heard the voice just a few feet ahead of her, hiding the shadows of the steps of a tiny house. She mistook the voice as a hag's, but presently it sounded like it belonged to a middle aged woman.

Maria forced her legs to continue. She knew from experience that fear could paralyze, and standing still would have made a murderer's job much more easier.

"Why don't you ever listen?" The rain stopped, or at least she couldn't feel the stinging shots of water any more. Maria faced a silhouette standing in the middle of the road. Instead of accepting the confrontation, she darted to the right, only to find herself in dead end. Disappointment arose in her; she thought she was smart enough not to trap herself for the killer…unless she could climb over the wire fence…

"Will you start listening for once and stop running away?" A shadow grew beneath her feet, and Maria pivoted; the silhouette stood there, with its dainty hands on slim hips. Maria took a vacillatory step forward, eager to see who flanked her so petulantly.

In a flash, she saw who it was. "Christ," she exclaimed in shock.

"Actually, I prefer Maria." She recognized the emphasis on the first word. As a child, she would choose a "big" word and say it repeatedly for months on end. 

"You know, I wanted to grow up, have a house and a dog with husband and two children. Actually, that's not such so much to ask for? Don't you won't the same thing?"

"What I _want_," she told the child, "is a prescription for Prozac." _Good lord_, she thought. _I'm standing here talking to_ myself.

"Actually, I don't know what that means but it doesn't sound good for you."

"Yes it is," she argued heatedly. "It would stop these stupid hallucinations with their stupid words of advice. So what now, princess, are you gonna tell me what I should do? Well, you're too late, because I've decided all ready. Now, hop back into your time machine with that kooky mad scientist and go back from where, when you came from and take all hallucinations, flash backs, and other symptoms of insanity with you. Or," she began after a moment of deep thought, "you could be a clone, some instrument of the Night World so that they'd slowly drain me of all common sense and stability…"

"Why do you run from me?" the face rippled as the voice aged into a mixture of old and young. Maria felt the cold power of it and evaded deeper into the alley way.

"I do not run," she objected carefully.

"You run from me," the younger stated again, this time with more forcefulness. "Look at me and look at you. Who is truer to herself?" Maria heard contempt in the voice. She already knew what the real her looked like: a rain soaked girl in sweats and a pony tail. But the copy, or was it the original, before her remained completely dry with long wavy black hair, and eyes glowing like double bonfires.

"Stop destroying my life," the younger Maria demanded the older. "Come on! We've worked hard for this, we have been to hell and back…"

"Hey! At your age I never cursed…" But even as she spoke the girl slowly grew and her features matured.

"That's besides the point," she interrupted. "The point is that you finally have your child hood dream, and not to mention destiny is smacking you in the ass, and you deny it. Wake up and kiss the soul mate!"

She knew she hit rock bottom, especially now when she entered the world of surrealism. "Right, and I suppose I'm supposed to forget everything that's happened for the past two years?"

"Don't be childish," the thirteen year old Maria snapped. "Because only a child would hold onto a grudge that lasts for years, therefore refuse all happiness that could last a life time. And don't tell me you've never made a mistake."

"I won't be childish if you stop trying to understand adult matters! How dare you presume it would be that simple! If you really were me, which you are not, you'd know the pain the rejection is causing me. He's…"

"Stubborn, hot headed, unpredictable, and at times stupid, correct?" Maria nodded, relieved to see the clone knew something of her feelings. 

"So are we and that's why you love him," she added, making Maria's jaw drop. 

"I am not! I mean, you maybe because you're just a child, but, like you've said, I've been through hell and I've picked up a little wisdom along the way. It may not have looked like it right now, but I'm doing all three of us a favor. This way, nobody gets hurt."

"Do you really believe that you can live without him? Can you honestly, and when I say honest I mean honest, say that you don't love Valdis Eldson?" Although it was a question, it hung around Maria like a major ultimatum. She felt tiny shocks thrumming along her skin, and then shivered as the wind wrapped its invisible arms around both of them. Sounds of the city emerged from nowhere, but their origins floated around them like ghosts. The outline of a cat shot from the end of the alley, and passed directly through little Maria's legs. 

"Yes," she asserted, but the gales carried her voice away.

"What was that?" little Maria put a hand to her ear.

"I said yes," Maria yelled. Dark clouds that she hadn't noticed earlier rested heavily on the buildings, and in a blink of an eye the biting rain drops poured down on them.

"I still can't hear you…," her mirror image taunted with familiar hauteur. A white branch of lightning flashed from the violent gray clouds. Maria Tybal seethed, and allowed the bubbling anger over flow within her. Her entire body shook with anger and coldness. It seemed that nobody asked what she wanted in life, they just gave without approval. Nobody gave her a choice as to who should be the love of her life. All she wanted was control and now the imp of the blast from the past was taking all her authority and self reserve. And still, the little girl mocked her.

"Honey, time's a-wasting and I'm not getting any younger…just say it one more time. Come on, sweetie, you remember our mother's song, don't ya? How bout I start?" Maria threw her head back to avoid seeing spiteful little girl and felt the full force of the thunderstorm's soldiers. The moment she did, however, she saw an interesting, bright vein from the sky, slowly branching its way towards her. 

Children could be so cruel. In a ghostly voice, little Maria sang ruthlessly. "Your eyes are the eyes of a woman in love, and, oh, how they give you away. Why try to deny you're a woman in love…" 

"I DON'T LOVE VALDIS ELDSON!" The power prickling along her skin walls erupted, and fled from its prison to meet the lightning bolt. Trapped and paralyzed by the tendrils of pure electricity and magic, Maria sought her younger version's aid, but she was nowhere in sight. Unable to carry the weight of the volts pressing all around her, Maria covered her head with her arms and hoped for the best. But even when she closed her eyes and turned away from the blinding glare, gray disturbing scenes played in her mind.

There was a woman, beautiful and married, but unhappy.

She had two healthy children. Was she crying when they didn't see?

Her husband was sweet, intelligent, and funny. There should have been no reason to cry.

Her children were mischievous, curious, and human. She wished they had red hair.

They played in a yard surrounded by a white picket fence. They kept her in. Kept the scary things out.

Everyday she and her husband went to work together, with smiles. The smiles hurt so bad…

Finally, after raising the children to adults, she died on a bleak day in humdrum Suburbia. 

Hundreds at wake, and at the funeral to see her lifeless body lowered in the ground.

After all had gone, a hill of flowers resting over the grave, one visitor stayed behind.

To place his blue rose on the head stone, and she saw his tearful good bye.

One six feet under, who had lived a life under a facade of merriment and denial.

Another on earth, doomed to eternal misery and longing.

Both would forever be unhappy.

~*~*~*~

"Hey miss, move your ass. If you wanna eat, just get yourself to the front door like all the other bums in the city. Oh for cryin' out loud," she opened her eyes and saw a bovine greasy cook go around her to dump a load of trash in the bin. After muttering some obscenities, he hobbled back into the back entrance of the restaurant. 

Her skin felt burned and highly sensitized. Beads of water ran down her body, soothing her feverous skin. Cars, people, stray animals…everything she missed earlier was now in sight. The sky , no longer threatening, was a calm gray. Cautiously, she left the alley. Horns blared and headlights sliced through the darkness. She wasn't hallucinating. She was standing on the street corner, drenched but alive and with a head clear and dizzy, and the city was bustling with night life.

As she jogged back to the apartment, she sensed something wrong within her. With each breath there came a grating pain in her lungs, and she felt as if her heartbeat would break free from the ribcage. She didn't want to feel the pain but she didn't want to hold her breath hours on end. Dizziness that she associated with the strange liberation of the blue fire intensified, and blurred her vision. _Get a taxi, you idiot!_

But none came. Perhaps they avoided wet homeless teenagers, or they only came to women in a miniskirt and tight top. She wasted ten minutes standing on a corner when she realized the pain had gotten worse. It was either the hospital or her apartment.

"Chest pain, short breath, and dizziness…aw, hell, this isn't good," she gasped, but kept her pace. Most doctors told her when the palpitations came, to call them and then lie down. Maria brushed the forgotten symptoms aside, for there was something more important at hand than her health.

_God, how could I be so stupid? A normal life, normal family…it's not worth anything unless you have the man you lov-_ Maria put the brakes on her thoughts before she could finish. Love? She barely knew him. _Well, the man you are meant to be with._

By schedule, the street lights had switched off by the time she ran down her block. Hints of dawn hid behind light gray clouds, and her neighbors began to drive off to work. Had she been gone that long?

_It seemed like five minutes ago I left that message for Valdis_… She would have said it aloud but she didn't want to waste her breath. 

"Oh my god," she realized and her knees buckled under her just as she landed on the doorstep. The message, hours ago, and…oh dear lord, Sabrina's "helpful" vow. Valdis must have heard it by then, and she had said as soon as possible. Just when she thought she had seen the worst, something unbelievable just had to happen. 

"Hey, Maria!" With great difficulty and stiff joints, Maria rose from the concrete stairs and looked up to Sabrina's face four stories up. 

_Please don't tell me he came here, please don't…_

"Valdis came here last night, but don't worry, I told him what's…what." Her light hearted words wounded her more than the merciless rain drops had done before. Too exhausted to shut her up, Maria stood helplessly on the street. She let the walkers bump into her, she let the sounds of the city swallow her up. Maria's face remained heaven ward, but she felt her rapidly beating heart sinking the opposite direction.

Was this it? Was this Fate's punishment for denying her for so long? Surrender, complete and utter, almost washed over her. The images that played before eyes in the alley way suddenly became a reality. Maria saw the heartbreaking scenes and almost sobbed if it wasn't too painful to inhale. Her new life was a failure, just as her attempt of true happiness. Heavy depression blanketed over her mind, and sadness glazed in her eyes. But her stubbornness just wouldn't allow her to give up, not without a long bloody fight. Well, minus the bloody part.

_Puh lease. You are Maria Yolken Tybal. You were a Wild Power, you helped save the world, and you have survived living with that bimbo for a month. Don't tell me you are giving up now. If you are, you do not deserve happiness. Don't expect fate to do everything, you gotta help along the way._

She should have worried about multiple personalities. She should have laid down and rested after six hours of running. She should have gone inside before she relapsed into illness. But instead she thought of Valdis.

"Which way did he go?"

"What?"

"Which way did he go, hurry Sabrina," she shouted urgently. Sabrina gave her customary confused expression and then shrugged.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. He went left and then turned right at the second intersection. But remember, I knew a friend whose cousin who was a good buddy of his…hey, where are you going?"

She had no time to lose, but the odds were stacked against her. Her legs were as wobbly as a baby's and her lungs were smoldering. Her teeth now chattered uncontrollably as she walked, for she had not the strength to even jog, swiftly and cut through the crowds like a knife. Maria had heard of soulmates finding each other through the bond, but she had brushed it aside for so long she didn't know what part of her held it. The maze of concrete held Valdis somewhere, and the only navigator she had was instinct and their faint bond. She prayed to god it was enough.

Unconsciously, she slowed her pace. Her mind, however, ran at a million thoughts a second. A passerby would have mistaken her as a foolish runaway, too scared to deal with conflicts at home. In perspective, she had been. 

"Come on," she panted, "all you got to do is find him." Her pessimistic side told her finding an atheist in the Vatican was easier than finding a single man in New York City. But she refused to believe that. After all, she was Maria Yolken Tybal, and she was going to get her soul mate whether fate allowed it or not. Maria took turns into lanes she never visited and paced avenues she never saw before. Umbrella toting men and women looked at her as if she were insane. There was a chance she was, but she didn't care. 

The sound of mud squishing under her sneakers snapped her into focus of her surroundings. Instinct, or sheer stupidity, had led her to a debilitated street of houses squeezed together as close as possible. Normal house hold actions could be seen through the windows, while some children sat under the metal awnings. At the corner at which she stood, was a boarded up chapel, the faded brick desecrated by graffiti. The invisible string that had dragged her through out the city lost its pull, and she nowhere to turn. For the second time in twenty four hours, she was lost and it wasn't likely the schizophrenic side of her would tell what to do again. Giving up, for that day at least, she leaned on the black iron admirably still standing to protect the small church and waited for an idea to come to her mind. The time was also valuable to stop her shivering and calm her heart rate. She may not have found Valdis now, but she intended to spend the rest of her life trying if needed. The least anybody could do was try. 

A flower petal, possibly a late casualty of the autumn, landed in front of her and then was blown away again. She followed its movement from her shoe to under the black iron fence, until it was caught against a headstone.

Feeling the ridiculous need to help the poor thing, she sauntered with the support of the fence to the grave yard also defended by the. Her Samaritan deed was forgotten when she saw whose grave it was plastered against. With baffling strength for one who hadn't slept for nearly forty hours and experienced a ravaging palpitation longer than thought possible, Maria gingerly climbed over the fence and limped slowly to the head stone. She sank to her shaking knees and with unsteady hands she pushed the leaves and weeds to read the name.

Theodore Tybal. 1950-1980. Loving son, husband, and father. 

Her stomach lurched. Almost positive surrealism had overtaken her mind again, she let her fingers trace the marble letters. Yes, they were real. She had sought for her soul mate and found her father's grave yard instead. _But,_ some deluded part pleaded, _it might not be your father, it could be some other man with the same name. Come on, keep trying, Valdis must be here somewhere._

She almost stood up and continued her desperate search, if it wasn't for the color of the petal. A blue curled up petal. Her knees sunk into the wet grass again. She was so hypnotized by the headstone that she didn't spy the children just across the street staring at her with inquisitive eyes, and mouths full of chocolate. Five or six boxes sat at their feet. 

A man to the other side of them was surrounded by a group of male teenagers. All murmured excitedly while swarming around an ancient looking man, maybe their grandfather. He held a rectangular wooden frame in his hand and squinted at the corner of the picture through his thick glasses. They, too, had chocolates. 

Afraid of disappointment, Maria slowly turned her head to her left. Another weed covered headstone laid directly next to his. The entire memorial seemed a dull brown and gray, except for one effervescent objected.

A bouquet of slightly bent, blue roses with dark green stains on the stems lay against the head stone. She didn't have to brush aside the weeds to know whose grave it was.

"Fate, God, whoever you are that makes these things happen ," she whispered, hoping somebody other than they could hear her. "I'm not ready for disappointment right now, but if this is just another letdown, I will die. Not by my own hands, but yours. My grief…" Instinct, the wonderful instinct that saved her life for the past twenty years, told her to turn around.

Blood red hair. Sad blue green eyes. Beautiful lips drawn into a tight white line.

"Jesus, Maria, you're freezing." 

And there stood Valdis, hiding behind a monument of a stone angel praying over some unfortunate soul. He must have seen her since the moment she staggered in front of the corner, yet he hadn't said a word, and was satisfied to simply watch her from a distance. _Why didn't he catch my attention?_ Maria thought of her persistent complaint concerning his ardent attempts to reconcile, and smiled when she realized that he was simply complying. She was dumbfounded to know he still worried about her.

Valdis took off his coat and draped it over her shivering shoulders. He avoided her wondering gaze and quickly buttoned it close.

This was it. This was the brink of the happy ending she had wanted all her life and she had nothing to do except cry. Rivers of tears surfaced in a heartbeat. His eyebrows furrowed as his hand rose to her forehead. 

"You're burning up, what were you thinking walking in the freezing rain ten months after pneumonia?" She leaned into his touch, loving the feel of his skin against hers. 

Maria's hands fluttered to his cheeks, delicately stroking the stubble on his face. In the quivering mass of happiness, she found her voice. "Valdis?" she marveled. "Valdis, please tell me you're here, tell me you're not coming from some part of my brain…"

"God, your aunt told me you got delirious when you get sick; come on let's get you inside some where." His arms snaked around her, ready to lift her off her feet. Maria broke free from her awe and remained seated. By pleading eyes he sat down next to her and she felt a thrill ripple through her when he scooted closer.

"No, no, no, I'm not crazy, Valdis. I understand everything, now. I understand why you did all of this, why the fate decided we should be together." A horrible thought entered her head. "That is…you're not leaving are you?" Valdis looked away but before he could answer she began to speak rapidly.

"Please, don't leave now, Valdis, I told you I understand everything and I'm sorry that I was so stubborn before but that's just the way I am and I would have gone to you sooner but I've just been so desperate for a normal life I didn't realize it wouldn't be normal if I pretended all the time." She paused for a deep breath when Valdis clamped a hand on her mouth.

"I was going to leave…," he confessed, and threw a dark look at the children who had benefited from his chocolate donation earlier. They scrambled into their house and hid behind the window curtains. With the dark look and visible tensing of his sinewy body, the men with the autograph, now investigating Maria's situation from afar, quickly entered in their separate houses.

"…after I heard that message. And then I remembered I had one more gift to give on your unbelievably expensive Christmas list." She bit into his palm so that she could talk.

"PG," they said at the same time. 

"My parents' graves," she said with a small laugh, still in amazement of his appearance. Just as she was certain there was no hope in sight, quirky God had decided to give her a break after all.

"Isn't this the part when you ask me 'how did you know?' Nah, don't bother, I'll just say it any way. I flew all the way to Georgia to see if your aunt knew."

"Did she?" Maria didn't recall ever sharing her Christmas list with her adoptive aunt, but who knew what she said when her dreams followed her into reality during the weeks of pneumonia. Valdis shook his head.

"No, she had no inkling what PG meant. But she did mention that you would mumble somebody called 'Gwendolyn' when you were sick and after hours of brainstorming I-"

"Put two and two together," she finished for him. The euphoria had abated and common sense allowed him to pull her to her feet. "She answered all your questions willingly?"

"Don't you start reprimanding me about mind games, Maria. I've heard some of the stories of your manipulations and we're both guilty of mind control." Maria shrugged and gazed at the block around them. The houses were still depressing, and the shower still fell rudely about them, but there was a new brilliant shine to everything. At the moment, she didn't care if their bond had led her to the garbage dump or the city morgue, just as long as she found him. "What made you seek me out?"

With the last tiny details safely stored in her head she looked up into his face. It was strange to see him smile and smile back, without any malevolence whatsoever. Strange and delightful. Maria shrugged again, finding it difficult to put her experience into words. The means of their present happy ending didn't seem to matter.

"I was running away, literally, when I just suddenly saw myself in a different angle, a different person really." It was quite possibly the most emotional moment of her life, and her tears took the utmost advantage of it. "It was just stupid to hold your past against you when you completely forgot mine. Here you are, ready to accept me with open arms in less than a second, and it took me months to even consider it. Oh don't," she protested and pushed his lips away. "If we're going to make this work, you're gonna hafta learn that you can't shut me up with kisses like they do in the movies. Oh, look," she lamented, "there I go again, ruining the moment. I shouldn't have gotten so assertive…"

Rough fingers caressed her dripping chin and tilted her head up so golden orbs met his. The flames he had thought of every day once again blazed as if the sun had taken refuge from the mauvais temps in her eyes Her eyelashes held captured droplets from the storm. As he leaned closer, water dripped from his rain soaked head onto her cheeks. For a breathtaking second, his lips stopped a hairsbreadth away from hers, long enough for her to pull back an inch to protest for his coyness when he pulled her close and pressed his kiss against hers. 

Never in her life had she felt anything like it. She had been romantically kissed by two men before, and Dorian had never really counted. Kyros was fun, but all that pawing had been irritating.

But to be kissed by a soul mate…for endless moments she reveled in the simple joy of it. With a soft touch of his lips she had been thrown in to such harmonious ecstasy that she began to shake more violently than before. 

He was in an only slightly better condition. Losing all consciousness of their audience, his hands grabbed her by the waist and held her as if she were only a fleeting dream. She found bruises on her hips later on. 

Together they explored the link, tangling their souls through the fluid sea of their thoughts. Before, she had seen his mind as a turbulent whirlpool of anger, and confusion. And Valdis had expected the broken tundra encasing the searing thoughts of the lively girl within. But both were surprised to find themselves in growing warm flood of emotions: happiness, love, surprise, laughter…and some feelings no word in any language could describe. 

He pulled away just as her legs failed her. Her hands clung around his neck for support. She laughed in his worried face. Ten hours of irrational exercise had taken its toll. Before she could laugh any more, she fainted in his arms with a hopeful smile on her face.

~*~*~*~

She always thought swooning women were weak. Or ridiculously emotional or just planning to fall into the arms of a handsome men. In movies, books, and shows she criticized any female who fainted in the most important scenes. They had all just been so damn annoying. Maria made a mental note to stop any form of criticism from then on. 

She was aware she was in a very stiff bed with bright lights just overhead. A hospital bed, after all she had plenty of experience in emergency rooms. Maria felt the golden link strengthen and felt Valdis just in the corner of the room. She smelled strong impostor perfume and knew Sabrina hovered over her.

"Damn girl," she whispered close to her ear. "If you faint with his kiss, think how good the sex is!" Lassitude prevented Maria from pointing out that Valdis had vampire ears and could pretty much hear everything in Queens. Maria opened her eyes and smiled at Valdis across the room, which disappeared when the blue green eyes rose to meet hers, summoning him to come closer. The whole world and everything in it vanished when their fingers met. On closer inspection, he could feel pieces of frozen denial or pain holding back thoughts that she didn't even know existed. It had little matter, for they had the rest of their lives to delve each other's mind.

Valdis didn't expected to live the rest of their lives in complete pacifistic peace. Maria knew fights and arguments were unavoidable. Just as long as embraces, kisses, and stubborn apologies, the only definite idea was that they would be together until the end of time. Maybe longer.

The End

~*~*~*~

****

"Better to have loved and lost a short person than never to have loved a tall." David Chambless


	8. Epilogue

An epilogue that…um…epilogue-izes. Also a hint of things to come….all right I admit it. Blatant self-advertising for upcoming story. Go ahead, and sue. Go ahead and take my fortune of nine dollars. And I hope you're happy with my George Washingtons, while I revel in literary creativity. 

Epilogue

~*~*~*~

Labor Day of 2001

Daybreak Mansion

All attempts to confiscate illegal drinks had been prepared. Last year's fiasco was not, absolutely _not_, to be repeated. Thierry stationed certain friends to casually sniff out any beverages. He had people watch the punch to avoid contamination. And invitations spelled out specific items that could have been brought, and certain liquids that were not to be tolerated. He had thought everything out.

Except the deliberate ignorance of door guards, bribery of fruit punch watchers, and the selective reading capabilities of his Daybreakers. So all attempts to confiscate illegal drinks had been prepared…and failed miserably.

He watched as the gathering grew more boisterous, and wondered how the raucous party was the product of his quiet, serene soul mate. But then again, she was more tolerant of mischief than he was. 

All guests who were invited arrived. And even those whose invitations were "lost in the mail" graced the palatial home; because the Elder's celebrations were simply not to be missed. From across the massive room, near the entrance, Thierry spied Hannah, who was staring intently at the main door. He told her mentally not to bother; that the pair would most likely not turn up. Her only response was a vaguely irritated glare.

He was so distracted at staring at the girl that he didn't notice an agitated person nearing him until the two collided violently. Thierry, of course, had enough agility to avoid falling flat on his face, but the same could not have been said for other. Thierry smiled, puzzled, down at Philip North.

"Sorry about that," Thierry apologized loudly over the ear bleeding music and offered a hand.

Philip squinted up at the man, because it was more difficult for him to see through the dimness. "My fault," he replied and took the hand. "Jerry, isn't it?"

"Thierry," he corrected, with some surprise for the mistake. Everybody knew his name. Then he remembered that this North didn't always warm up to extra-species events, be it Daybreak or not. 

"Morgead's been stalking me all night," the taller boy explained, disgusted as he dusted himself off. "I think it has something to do with Claire."

"What does Jez have to say about that?"

Philip shrugged. "The last time I saw her, she was bothering Claire. Weird."

Thierry studied Poppy's brother, wondering if he was as slow as he let on. The red haired energetic vampire often raved about Philip's intelligence. Obviously, the two were trying to set them up and, even more obvious, they were failing. But Philip maintained the innocently confused expression, and Thierry wryly agreed to the strangeness of it all. 

Moving on, and towards the direction of Hannah, somebody once again intercepted his path.

"Mary Lynette," he acknowledged politely, and then stepped to the side of her. She mirrored his action so that she blocked him once again.

"What on earth," she began, annoyed, "is Patrick White doing here?"

Thierry paused for a moment, privately trying to match a face with a name. "Oh," he finally said, remembering, "Rowan brought him."

"But _why_?"

"Don't be worried about him finding out anything," he assured her. "He just thinks this is a normal party in Las Vegas."

"I'm not worried about that," she told him, looking around. "You should be worried though. I swear if that boy comes within an inch of my personal space again—"

"Oh don't worry!" Both turned to Rowan, who was standing behind them. "I already described, in detail, who he could not harass. You, Blaise, Hannah…you know everybody. Almost everybody, I think" Mary Lynnette did not look pleased. "Oh come on!" Rowan gestured helplessly. "He told me his uncle died of cancer, and I can't bear it when people around me are that unhappy—"

"His 'uncle' was his hamster's name! Who probably died from neglect!"

"Well, we found that out after we arrived here, didn't we?" Rowan returned testily. "And I couldn't just send him back to Oregon!" 

"Oh yes you could've! In fact—"

"I'll just leave you two to sort this out," Thierry hollered delicately, and moved away. He glanced towards the exit and sigh disappointedly. Great, he lost her. Maybe the couple she had been anticipating had arrived. 

Leaving the masses was like stepping from the Sahara to Alaska in two seconds flat. He moved towards the anteroom, hoping to discern some figure, when somebody accosted him from behind.

"Hey, boss, if you're lookin' for the missus, she ain't there. I think that's Kestrel and Hugh in there." Thierry's eyebrows rose at Kyros' new information. "Yeah, I know; I figure she's either killing or seducin' him in there, can't decide which. But I'm glad to see that our great minds think alike, 'cos it was getting crowded in there—ya know, I think it's your fault, ya really do have too many alcoholic beverages in there, not that I could complain. But some people can't hold their vodka like I can, so—"

"Kyros," he nearly shouted, and then calmed himself. "Kyros, we can continue this later."

"Sure," the Arctic fox said amiably, unhurt by his employer's volume. "Just wanted to let you know that the last enclave you sent me to?" Thierry nodded, confirming. "Empty as a procrastinator's self-help meeting."

"Good job," Thierry threw impatiently over his shoulder as he strode away. "Take a vacation."

"No, boss, you don't get it," Kyros called after him, matching his pace. "It was already empty when we got there."

That made him pause. Because the music was blaring with something, in Thierry's opinion, obscene, the two moved to the east parlor. The bass still shook the opulent walls, but at least they could hear each other without straining their throats. "But…how?"

Kyros lit his cigarette before answering. Irritated by the smoke, Thierry opened the door. "Accordin' to one of your hippies, they might all be goin' to Anomina, Massachusetts."

"And what's there?"

He shrugged, and paused to ogle a witch passing by the opened double doors. Thierry waited patiently now, because he knew, for a fact, that the male youth couldn't quite control their drooling reflexes. Then the New York native remembered himself.

"Not much. Livestock. People. But it's quiet, and they don't seem to be doin' much trouble. At least not yet. I'm thinkin' they're waiting till they have enough people to do some damage." The boy's brown eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, yeah, I can go! C'mon boss, you gotta send me, I haven't been to Boston yet—"

Thierry's hand shot up to stop the onslaught of words. Kyros was lucky the hand didn't ball into a fist and bruise his jaw. Thierry had always found this particular employee immensely irritating. "We'll wait until, and if, the numbers grow. And, you wouldn't mind if Quinn went with you, would you?"

Kyros stared up at him, uncomprehending. "But…boss…he's higher in rank. That would mean…aw, hell, boss, you don't trust me any more? I've been on five freakin' missions on my own—"

"And on all five you've gotten tangled with some witch, shifter, vampire, wolf, human—and it's always complicated your operations."

He shrugged uneasily. "I solved the problems pretty good," he mumbled sulkily.

"Pretty well," he corrected. Kyros stared at the floor, frowning darkly. Thierry felt a stab of guilt, as always when one of his Daybreakers grew angry with him. But he must follow the rules, and couldn't spoil this one, just as he didn't spoil the others, by relenting. If he caved in with every drooping bottom lip, there would have been fifty agents on every quaint town. "Quinn will keep you in line," he said firmly.

"Quinn can go—" He never got to finish. Both noticed the abrupt stop in music, and rushed across the marble tiles in scant seconds. The lights were still dimmed, but the hundreds who filled the room were no longer dancing. Sensing apprehension from his soul mate, Thierry wove through the stunned crowd, towards the opposite wall where the speakers and disc jockey resided. And when he finally broke through his sweaty friends, he was puzzled as to why Hannah didn't laugh.

Patrick White lay achingly in the mess that used to be turntables. Rowan kneeled beside him, while Hannah hovered around fretting. And, of course, his favorite former wild power stood three feet away from them.

Maria Tybal stood, rubbing her knuckles, until she saw Thierry frowning at her. She bit her lip guiltily, and widened her eyes as she approached him. "It's not my fault, Thierry, honestly it isn't," she pleaded in a child like voice. "He started it. He sexually harassed me. We should kill him."

An audible ripple of admonition spread through the surrounding crowd, and Thierry felt it whole heartedly. "Maria," he reproved sternly. "It didn't work before and it won't work now." Then she frowned, making her appear older and more like herself.

"Well, it's better that _I_ punch him for grabbing my ass than Valdis over there." Thierry looked over her head, and saw Valdis shrug innocently. A peculiar bandage was on his temple, and Thierry suspected Maria was the culprit. "_He_ could have killed him."

Thierry had to admit it was a good point. Then Rowan said, with loud realization, "That's who I forgot! Patrick you shouldn't harass Maria Tybal!"

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" Patrick moaned.

Somebody in the swarm suggested they fix the music. The disc jockey went to work on it instantly, and Thierry suggested alcohol for her bleeding knuckles. And when he turned away, he heard a sharp cry emitted from Patrick again.

He quickly glanced back and saw White clutching his shin, howling in pain, while Valdis physically restrained the tiny, black haired girl responsible for the kick. Then, any other expletive uttered was drowned out by the resuscitated music.

Thierry helped Patrick up, told Hannah to meet him in rec-room and marched up to Valdis Eldson, who he unfairly held responsible for not interfering. At the sight of Thierry's harsh expression, Maria stopped struggling and looked at anything but him.

"Both of you, stay out of trouble. Don't start fights with others, don't start fights between yourselves—"

"Now that," Valdis objected, "we can't promise. I mean, come on." Valdis looked meaningfully down at his burden, and Thierry softened, sympathizing. 

"You," Thierry redirected his strict tone to Maria, "stop it. You can't be the center of attention every time you come here. It's selfish." The young woman pouted. "And get something for that," he suggested, looking at her hand.

"Right," she agreed happily, and snatched a Shirley Temple out of a passerby's hand. Thierry snatched it back and handed it to the rightful, bewildered owner.

"I meant rubbing alcohol." Maria shrugged as Thierry made a bee line for the rec-room. 

He was so close, just a few precious feet away from the double doors that led to a stair way, that led to a hall way, that led to his precious soul mate, when an obstacle popped up. He sighed, resigned, and leaned against the wall. No use fighting it. 

Rashel studied him worried, wondering what made him so depressed. "It's nothing big, Thierry. Just thought you wanted to know dragons aren't quite extinct yet."

"Of course not. We've got some in Circle Daybreak, and some free lancers—" She shook her head.

"No. Night World dragons. We assumed that all the dragons the council awakened were used in the Battle. Not true. One's been identified on the East Coast."

"And, what's he been doing?" he yawned, his brain abnormally fuzzy. God, all he had to do was get to Hannah and he'd be much more alert.

Rashel shrugged. "Nothing much. But it's pretty suspicious if you ask me. I think—"

"In a few months, okay, Rashel? It's been almost two years…you and Quinn have to relax once in a while. Have some fun." Rashel raised an eyebrow. "Dance."

"We like to work," she responded defensively as he backed out the door. He smiled tiredly. 

"Sure. Just…wait a few weeks, okay?" Rashel nodded, uncertain, and was lost in the crowds. Thierry watched for a moment, at the sight of them all. Some with soul mates, some without. The last great love story, Maria and Valdis quibbling in one corner. The next potential fairy tale; a confused Philip being pushed towards an embarrassed Claire. Rowan helping the limping Patrick out of the room. Blaise and, surprisingly enough, Aradia with their own entourage of admirers. They were all so happy, even if they didn't know it.

He just hoped it stayed that way.

Questions for Frozen Fire

(Note, I don't really think this part infringes on the Fan Fiction rules, because it relates to my fan fiction. And I do have an epilogue. So don't tattle because…it's mean and people never like tattlers.)

Many people (friends mostly) have politely pointed out some mistakes or miscalculations from the story. Also some questions to the plot. Here is a little bit to answer. Also, I've replaced/edited the other chapters because all my mistakes were annoying me.

At the end of chapter one, the knife used against Maria was partly wooden. When she was changed into vampire, wouldn't the wound still be fatal?

Answer: Yes. But, you can't very well have the heroine die after the first chapter. It sort of ruins the whole story. So let's pretend that it is possible for a smooth transformation.

Delos doesn't interact with Hannah as he did in the book Soul mate. Why? 

Answer: I read that book last, in the middle of writing this. And I didn't want to go back and change it. I'm lazy. Also, I kinda sorta kinda…didn't read Spellbinder. So things are off in that quarter, there's a reason. Not a good one, but there is a reason. 

Also, if there are other interactions that don't agree with the L.J. Smith planned, I heartily apologize. My mother has given/thrown away all my L.J. Smith books except two, so I have virtually no reference.

The countdown at the end of chapter three is impossible, seeing as all the families who took part were in different time zones (notice how this isn't a question, just a point out. Mean, evil, logical friends…) 

Answer: True. But, again, let's pretend it was.

Valdis claims that he helped Ash leave the island. Didn't Quinn do that? 

Answer: Yes. But, let's just say that Quinn was busy (doing something, I don't know. Brooding/ suicidal stuff, which seems to be fitting) and needed another bad guy's help.

Is it possible for Ash to have _that_ many friends with seedy pasts who needed his help/ gave help? (this was somewhat sarcastic :0P) 
    
    Answer: Of course. Ash is a Redfern (who always seem to be popular or notorious), and is cute as a button!

The Day breakers, who all appear to be young, are in and out of the house at all times. What about school? 

Answer: Thierry sent millions of witches or vampires to each school to get them excused with mental power. No. I'm lying. I didn't think of school, because for the most part, I've hated it. And I have no answer to rationalize my plot so I'll just leave you with this to think about and forget that question:

Psychological Paradox

The statement below is true   
The statement above is false 

Ponder and forget…ponder and forget…

In chapter four, when Kestrel was knocked over by Keller, and then helped up by James, she didn't seem to know who he was. Aren't they cousins and shouldn't cousins recognize each other? 

Answer: Yes they should. But A) Kestrel had just been treated with a less than gentle witch on a nasty boo-boo. She's bound to be distracted. And 2) From what I remember, James has been living in California (right?) and she's been living on an enclave for most of her life. Lastly, C) do you really think that Kestrel has time to meet _all_ the Redferns _and_ extended families? From the fan fiction I've read, there are a lot of Redferns!

Who would win between a fight of Rashel and Keller? (Nothing to do with the story, really, but often asked and thought of) 

Answer: If allowed to shift, Keller hands down. Come on, y'all, a panther verses a human? If not allowed, and no weapons, still Keller cuz she's got muscles. If no shifting allowed, but weapons allowed, Rashel because she's resourceful. And I like her.
    
    
    How was the double persons thing in the last chapter possible? (Maria, other Maria, alley way…)

Answer: Um….er…magic? Yeah, magic! Whenever there's miscalculations or something, let's just say magic took care of it. So if there are other illogical events or results, my answer is magic. Whew, that takes care of everything else!


End file.
